West Park Baptist Church

Loving God, Loving People, Impacting the World

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ in the Covenant Blessings and Curses (Deuteronomy 28)

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Deuteronomy, the last book of the Torah, recounts Israel’s journey to the edge of the Promised Land. It consists of Moses’ preaching to Israel to obey God and keep the Mosaic covenant that had been established at Mount Sinai decades prior. Because of this, much of what we see in Deuteronomy is a retelling of what we’ve already seen in the previous books of the Torah. 

Near the end of Deuteronomy, there is a large section where Moses outlines the blessings that would result from obedience to the law and curses that would result from disobedience. God’s people have entered into a covenant with him, and here we see quite clearly what will happen depending on Israel’s response. 

Obedience would bear good fruit. Among the many blessings in verses 1-14, we see that the Lord would set Israel above all the other nations (v.1), bring victory over Israel’s enemies (v.7), and cause prosperity (v.11). All that sounds great! 

Disobedience, on the other hand, would not be so good. The result of disobedience would be severe. Israel would experience defeat, sickness, exile, and death. 

Sounds fair enough, right? Both parties entered into the agreement, and to be honest, Israel had the good side of the deal. God had nothing to gain; Israel had everything to gain. They didn’t deserve God’s favor to begin with; no, because of their sin, they only deserved God’s curses. And yet, God chose to bless them as his people and promise them abundance as they obeyed. 

If you’re familiar with the Old Testament, you know what happened. Israel chose wrong. They chose disobedience. Time and time again, Israel rebelled against God, resulting in exactly what God had laid out here in Deuteronomy 28. I encourage you to become really familiar with this chapter as you read through the Old Testament because you’ll be able to trace how God’s wrath in the Old Testament is tied directly to these curses. God was not flippantly punishing Israel unjustly; he was simply fulfilling the covenantal obligations that had been agreed upon centuries prior. 

As the Old Testament narrative came to a close, it was undeniably clear that Israel had a serious problem. They were repeatedly, without fail, egregiously breaking the covenant they had made with God back at Mount Sinai. They couldn’t stop. 

Something had to give. 

And so in came Jesus. 

Jesus, the perfect Son of God, came down in the flesh and lived a sinless life. He never broke the Mosaic covenant. He obeyed every single law. But instead of receiving the blessings for obedience, what do we see? He received the curses. Jesus experienced the exile and death that we deserve for our rebellion, bearing every bit of our punishment. 

And in return, we get everything. We get the blessings. In Christ, in Christ alone, we are blessed. Our greatest enemies– sin, Satan, and death– are defeated before us. We are established a holy people for a holy God. Of course, these promises are not all felt fully until eternity, but we start to experience them now. 

Despite Israel’s disobedience, God sent Jesus to provide a way out. Where Israel (and all people) deserve the curses of this covenant, the final chapters of the Bible portray the beauty of a Savior who has been merciful on us beyond measure. Whereas we deserve an eternal exile, God has given us an eternal home, a redeemed land free from sin and death and all enemies. Read verses 64-68 and then compare that to the truths in Revelation 21-22 and be astounded. 

What a God we serve! 

With that, we conclude our summer series on Christ in the Old Testament. In the last three months we’ve seen Jesus present, specifically in the Torah, in more than a dozen ways. It’s my prayer that you have been edified by this study and encouraged to continue it in your own study of Scripture. 

Christ is present always. May we not only see him in all the pages of Scripture but in every aspect of our lives. To Him be all the glory, now and forever.

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ and the Bronze Serpent (Numbers 21)

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I still remember the lightbulb moment I had the first time I ever read through the whole Old Testament: Wait a second… I’m just like the Israelites! I’d been frustrated by their complaining, their faithlessness, their constant rebellions in the face of God’s goodness and provision. 

And then it clicked. 

That was a tough realization. 

Thankfully, the story doesn’t end with Israel’s stubbornness. Let’s look at one such example. 

In Numbers 21, we’re told that the Israelites had defeated rival Canaanites by the hand of the Lord. This was the first victory of many as Israel prepared to enter the Promised Land. It’s a cause for celebration, right? Well, it should have been! Instead, Israel chose to fixate on what wasn’t going right. The neighboring Edom had refused Israel passage through the land (Numbers 20:14-21), so now Israel had to take the long way. Here comes the grumbling… 

“And the people became impatient on the way. And the people spoke against God and against Moses, ‘Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we loathe this worthless food’” (v.4-5). Ah, when will we learn? 

Despite God’s faithfulness, the people become convinced again that their temporary struggles mean God will not fulfill his promises. Despite his miraculous, daily provision of the manna, they reject it as loathsome and worthless, even going so far to say they have no food and water. Exaggeration, much? 

And yet, this is exactly what we do today. When God is seeming to take us by the scenic route, we become cynics. Suddenly God is no longer God. Suddenly his provision isn’t good enough. 

Interestingly, we know that the manna– God’s bread from heaven– represents Christ, God’s ultimate provision for us brought down from heaven (go read John 6). Israel’s rejection of God’s provision was serious; it ultimately represented what would later be their rejection of Jesus himself. 

Of course, this kind of rebellion needed to be punished. Verse 6 tells us that God sent fiery serpents among the people as a curse. Israel’s rejection of God was a serious matter and this hard-heartedness needed to be nipped in the bud before it grew into something worse. The serpents would get their attention. 

Here’s where things get interesting. The people admit their sin and ask for forgiveness (v.7), and then Moses was given instruction from the Lord: “Make a fiery serpent and set it on a pole, and everyone who is bitten, when he sees it, shall live” (v.8). 

Huh? 

I thought snakes were supposed to be bad in the Bible? Haven’t we all read about what happened to Adam and Eve? Why would God use the same means as the curse as the means of salvation? 

I’m glad you asked! 

This bronze serpent set on a pole is one of our clearest pictures of Jesus we see in the Old Testament. I love it. 

Moses was to craft a bronze serpent and put it on a pole. Those under the judgment of God, condemned to die, could look to this serpent and be healed. How simple is that? The guilty didn’t– couldn’t– do anything but fix his gaze toward his salvation. We all are condemned to die, held under the judgment of God, by our sin. And yet, we are provided Jesus as our means of salvation. As we fix our eyes upon him, the founder of our faith, attesting to his finished work on our behalf, we live. 

In his conversation with the Jewish leader Nicodemus, Jesus references this bronze serpent, saying, “And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14-15). Jesus would soon be lifted up, both onto the cross to die and from the tomb to live.  

He provides the model of resurrection life for us, and he does so by using the scandal of the cross. I asked earlier why God would use a serpent– the same thing cursing the people– as a means of the peoples’ salvation. Jesus gives us the answer: he, by putting himself under the curse of sin, defeated it. By the very means of the curse came our answer for deliverance. 

How great is that? 

Still, we are left with an important warning about this bronze serpent. Hundreds of years later, when Israel was established in the Promised Land, this serpent appeared again. Listen to this: “[King Hezekiah] did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, according to all that David his father had done. He removed the high places and broke the pillars and cut down the Asherah. And he broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made, for until those days the people of Israel had made offerings to it (it was called Nehushtan)” (2 Kings 18:3-4). 

Right alongside all the idols and false areas of worship was the bronze serpent. Instead of being a testimony to God’s salvation, it became itself an object of worship. What a shame it is when we trade the Creator for the created, when we worship becomes misplaced. May we remember, now and forever, that Jesus is the greater bronze serpent; he is the one worthy of our worship. Let us never celebrate what we get from God while leaving God himself behind. God himself is our prize, our treasure.

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ in Israel’s Annual Feasts (Leviticus 23)

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The Israelites knew how to feast, that’s for sure. Each calendar year, Israel was commanded by God to partake in seven feasts (who said God doesn’t like fun?), each of which has lasting theological significance for Christians. We find details about these feasts in Leviticus 23, a chapter that deserves a closer reading. Why? Because each feast ultimately finds its fulfillment in the person and work of Jesus. 

This study is one that puts me in a posture of praise; I can hardly fathom how God ordained all of these to show his glory so perfectly. It’s my prayer that you’ll respond in praise as well as you see the wonder of God. 

Let’s focus specifically on two feasts here, the Feast of Firstfruits and the Feast of Weeks (Leviticus 23:9-22). 

Each spring, the Jews in the Promised Land would enjoy a time of harvest. In Jerusalem for the Passover, the Jews would take the first of the harvest and bring it to the priest. The priest would wave this grain before God, then offering a sacrifice to God. This feast was a celebration that looked forward to a greater harvest. 

Then, 50 days later the Jews would celebrate the Feast of Weeks. They had recently been in Jerusalem for the Passover and now would gather there again. This feast would be similar to the one preceding it, as the Jews would offer to God the beginnings of a harvest as they looked forward to its totality. 

If these feasts were only about expressing dependence on God for his provision, it would be something worth our attention. And yet, it’s so much more significant. 

See, the timing of these feasts is crucial for us to understand their present significance as it relates to Christ. The Feast of Firstfruits was to take place the day after Sabbath during Passover week. In other words, this was the Sunday of the week when Jews celebrated Passover. 

As we discussed in our study of Jesus as the Passover Lamb, Jesus was crucified during Passover. This means that Easter Sunday, the day we celebrate Jesus’ resurrection, is also the day for the Feast of Firstfruits! Jesus’ resurrection is the beginning of a greater harvest of resurrection, one that his followers experience as we are resurrected to eternal life. 

Paul explains this to the church in Corinth: “But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:20-23)

So what about the Feast of Weeks? Do you remember what happened after Jesus rose from the dead? He spent some time with his disciples before ascending to heaven, and he commanded his disciples to wait in Jerusalem for “the promise of the Father” (Luke 24:48-51). 

The book of Acts recounts what happens next: “When the day of Pentecost arrived, they were all together in one place. And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. And divided tongues as of fire appeared to them and rested on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance” (Acts 2:1-4). 

Pentecost, fascinatingly, is a Greek word meaning “fiftieth.” It’s a day we’re familiar with, just by another name. It’s the same day as the Feast of Weeks, 50 days from the Feast of Firstfruits! 

This means that all that took place in Acts 2 with the Holy Spirit is all within the framework of the Old Testament Jewish feasts. What once symbolized the dawn of a new harvest finds its fulfillment in the work of Jesus. 3,000 souls were saved and the church was in motion; consider this the firstfruits of the great harvest of souls in which we are still living. 

Those first generations of Jews didn’t know all the reasons why God instructed them to celebrate the feasts when and how he commanded. Now, we see why. It is because centuries later, through the work of Jesus and the Holy Spirit, God would work within these feasts to highlight his unfathomable work of redemption. 

As you reflect on these two feasts and study the others, meditate on God’s identity. He is everlasting; he knew how he would fulfill these feasts centuries after he instituted them. We can trust that God has good reasons for ordering things the way he has, even when they don’t make sense to us at the moment. 

What a great, trustworthy, mighty God we serve!

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ in the Day of Atonement (Leviticus 16)

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Leviticus 16 might be the best chapter in the Old Testament. 

The Torah– the first five books of the Old Testament– needs to be read as one large literary unit. We can’t see Genesis as entirely separate from Numbers; it’s all part of one story. A friend of mine has summarized the Torah as being one story in three parts: how Israel got to Mount Sinai, what happened at Mount Sinai, and what happened after Israel left Mount Sinai. Leviticus, the middle book of the five, recounts a lot of the second part of the story, telling us the priestly instructions given by God at Mount Sinai. 

And Leviticus 16 might just be the center of it all.1

The Torah hits its climax in Leviticus 16. This chapter tells us of Israel’s Day of Atonement, the annual festival of Israel where the sins of Israel were forgiven. This day was so significant because God had declared that on it, “You shall be clean before the Lord from all your sins” (v. 30). It was a big deal. 

Despite the guidelines provided in the Torah for sacrifices, the Israelites surely would not have offered sacrifices for each and every sin they committed. That would have been impossible; sin is far too pervasive. See, sin is like glitter. I hate glitter. You know why– no matter what you do, if you get a little glitter on you, that glitter will now be on everything you own for the next decade. It sticks to you like glue and yet somehow multiplies exponentially onto all your possessions. I really hate glitter. 

So it is with sin. The annual Day of Atonement was a time where all the unintentional and overlooked sins would be addressed, where God would seek to heal the fractured relationship between him and his people. 

The high priest, wearing garments that reflected purity (v. 4), would offer a sacrifice first for himself and his family (v. 6). Although he was the high priest of Israel, he was a sinner, too. He was the only person in all Israel that could come into the innermost part of the temple– the throne room of God– and yet he could only enter once per year after he followed a strict procedure to ensure his purity before the Lord. 

Then, two goats would be taken on behalf of Israel: one would be sacrificed and the other would be sent out into the wilderness (v. 7-10). The first goat represented God’s wrath against sin being satisfied; blood was needed to atone for the peoples’ sins. What’s fascinating is that this blood didn’t only serve to cleanse peoples’ sins, but to cleanse the tabernacle itself of its defilement. As one writer said, “sin not only burdens us with guilt, it also stains us and whatever we touch. Sin makes us both unclean and transmitters of uncleanness.”2 The second goat represented the restoration of God’s relationship with his people as sin was taken out of the camp. 

Jesus’ work is the beautiful fulfillment of Israel’s Day of Atonement. 

Notice how he is present in all aspects. 

Jesus is the greater high priest. No high priest could be the perfect mediator between God and man because of his own sin; he had to wear garments to symbolize purity and offer sacrifices for himself prior to offering the sacrifices for everyone else. Jesus, the perfect and holy Son of God, could freely come to God’s presence to mediate for us, as the writer to the Hebrews makes abundantly clear (Hebrews 9:11-12, 15). 

Jesus is the greater sacrifice. The blood of goats and bulls is unable to truly atone for sin (Hebrews 10:4). These annual sacrifices looked forward to a true atonement we could only experience from the blood of Jesus. “He entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption” (Hebrews 9:12). 

Jesus fulfills the role of both sacrificial goats. It is his blood that purifies the people and satisfies God’s wrath, and he is likewise the one on whom all sin is cast and sent out of the camp. Jesus was crucified outside the city and restored God’s people to Him in holiness. 

At his death, the temple curtain– the one separating God’s throne room from everything else– was torn in two from top to bottom (Matthew 27:51). Through Jesus, God’s presence is no longer restricted from his people. No longer does only one man enter into the Most Holy Place once a year; by the blood of Jesus, all people can be restored to God’s presence right this moment. How amazing is that?!

God himself, the one against whom we’ve sinned so egregiously, is the one who brought us the sacrifice to cleanse us. We couldn’t have come back to him on our own; we couldn’t have atoned for our own sin. Praise God that he didn’t leave us to die, that he sent us a greater high priest to be our complete atonement!

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ and the Leprosy Laws (Leviticus 13-14)

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Isolation is brutal. If we learned anything from the last few years of COVID-19, it’s that isolation is brutal. For a time, the masses got a glimpse of the pain and loneliness experienced by many who are outcasts for one reason or another. The experience has been a window into the lives of the lepers we see present in the pages of the Bible, the many men and women whose lives were turned upside-down by a skin disease they couldn’t control. 

I feel for them. 

As I’ve grown in my understanding of Scripture, I’m thankful for how the redemptive story of the Bible gives hope to the hopeless, life to the lepers. 

Leviticus 13-14 is a section of Scripture that outlines the laws for navigating leprosy, a biblical umbrella term for various skin diseases. A quick reading highlights the harsh reality for lepers. Listen to verses 44 and 45: “The leprous person who has the disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head hang loose, and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease. He is unclean. He shall live alone. His dwelling shall be outside the camp.” 

A unique, image-bearing creation of God dwindles to a shell of themselves; isolation takes hold. And notice… it’s not just an isolation from others, but an isolation from God. To dwell outside the camp meant that the leper was cut off from access to the tabernacle, the very presence of God. 

Can you picture their pain? 

On top of all this, what you’ll notice as you read these chapters is that there’s no cure for leprosy. There was no ointment or shot or pill they could take that would take away the leprosy. It came down to whether or not God chose to heal them. The priest’s job wasn’t to administer medical care or cure the disease; no, they could only identify whether or not the healing had occurred. When the healing had occurred, the priest’s job was to ritually cleanse the leper, to declare them ceremonially clean. This was a matter of religious ritual, not of physical healing. 

I’m going to summarize the nature of leprosy, and I want you to identify anything else that fits the description. 

It leads to death. It separates people from God. It destroys relationships. It can’t be hidden. It has no cure apart from God. 

Sound familiar? If you read the first few paragraphs and started feeling glad you aren’t a leper… I have some news for you. Leprosy is a picture of sin! 

The Old Testament prepares us to see that leprosy is really a picture of the sinfulness of man. Only some people were literal lepers; all are sinners. 

Here’s where Jesus comes in, and this is so, so great. 

See, Jesus is described across the New Testament as both the greater High Priest and the greater temple. I encourage you to look back at the post from last week to see how this is evident even in the Old Testament. Jesus, as the greater High Priest, is able to provide healing. He doesn’t just go through a ritual to declare people ceremonially clean, he actually restores them from the inside out. He can cure the disease. Jesus, as the greater temple, brings the presence of God to the outcasts instead of leaving them outside the camp, separated from God’s presence. 

We see all this present in the nature of Jesus’ healing ministry. Have you ever thought about how Jesus spent so much of his time on earth healing people physically? As great as these healings were, they weren’t his main focus. He didn’t come just to heal people of their surface-level sicknesses and ailments. This would be a waste of time. A pointless game of whack-a-mole. He’d be fixing up broken pieces on a conveyor belt toward decay and death. If he didn’t take care of the root issue, the surface issues would keep coming. 

And that’s where it’s important to recognize that the root issue is sin. Sin is what causes death and decay. So that’s why Jesus had more on his to-do list than healing people physically all day, every day. He needed to preach, he needed to get to the cross, and he needed to get out of the tomb. Only after all that would he have the true solution to humanity’s problem. 

As we look at the Old Testament laws about leprosy, we see a picture of our deathly condition before our holy God. We see our need for God– for Jesus– to step down to earth and heal us. To be our great High Priest. To be the presence of God for us. And praise God, he has. 

Whatever ailments are causing us to groan and cry out, we followers of Jesus can rejoice knowing that our greatest ailment has been taken care of. We have been cleansed. We have been healed. If our bullet wound has been addressed, surely our paper cut will as well. Maybe it won’t be today, but we have assurance from Revelation 21:4 that it will happen one day: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Praise God! 

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ in the Tabernacle (Exodus 25-30)

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Right around New Year’s, it’s common to hear people make a resolution that they want to read the Bible more. It’s a noble and good ambition, but what often happens? Spurred on by the familiarity of the stories and the resolve to build a new habit, getting through Genesis is pretty smooth. Through the first half of Exodus, momentum is building and things are looking good. But then… About a month or two in, the second half of Exodus feels like a wall, and many people become discouraged. The narrative stories take a step back while tabernacle information and priesthood instructions and law codes take center stage. You look ahead– surely the challenging passages won’t go on forever– only to find that Leviticus is mostly more of the same. With that, dreams of a new habit often subside until the dawn of the new year, when the cycle repeats. 

To be honest, I wish things weren’t this way. One of my greatest joys in life is seeing people grow in their love of Scripture. I love seeing people light up as they learn something new and make a cool connection and, most importantly, encounter the living God in a fresh way. By no means do I think that the detailed instructions for building the tabernacle are as riveting a read as the flood narrative or the biographies of the patriarchs, but at the same time I don’t think these sections of Scripture should be ignored. On the contrary, all Scripture is a gift from God to us and is profitable (2 Timothy 3:16); each section of Scripture is valuable for us. 

As this series has repeatedly emphasized, all of Scripture points to Jesus, inspiring us to meet with and worship our Holy God. But what about this stuff in Scripture? What about the stuff that most people, if they’re honest, skip over as they’re reading? 

This is a subject I absolutely love. We don’t have the space today to cover anywhere near all of the amazing ways Jesus is revealed to us in these pages, so it is my hope that this post will be a launch pad from which you can jump, approaching this section of Scripture with fresh eyes. To do so, I’d like to focus specifically on the tabernacle.

The tabernacle– what would later become the temple– was the house of God in Israel. God instructed his people to build him a dwelling place, one that would be the centerpiece of worship because it contained God’s holy throne room. The tabernacle was the place where the presence of God was most manifest on earth. Consider it the place where heaven and earth collided, the place where God’s space and our space was to come back together after the tragic separation due to sin (look back to Genesis 1-3). 

What gets me so pumped up about the tabernacle is how clearly it points us to Christ. John 1:14 helps us. We’re told that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us,” which may not inspire much of a lightbulb moment until we consider the implications of the Greek. The word “dwelt among us” really means that he tabernacled among us. Jesus tabernacled among us! If that old tent from the wilderness represented God’s presence on earth, how much more is Jesus the true tabernacle, the presence of God walking around on earth in the man of Christ in whom the fullness of deity dwelled (Colossians 2:9)? 

If you’ve ever wondered about the significance of the temple curtain being torn at the moment of Jesus’ death (Matthew 27:50-51), it is wholly tied to the significance of the architecture and symbolism of the tabernacle. The innermost part of the tabernacle, God’s throne room, was separated by a curtain, one that no one but the High Priest could go behind– and even then, only once per year and under very specific regulations. God was present, but sin blocked us from his presence. It wasn’t until Jesus’ sacrificial death that the presence of God became openly accessible again as individuals are fully cleansed from their sins. 

With our eyes fixed on Jesus, we can read these chapters in Exodus with fresh insight as to their significance. 

Consider even the tabernacle furnishings– the bronze altar, the golden lampstand, the ark of the covenant, etc.– each of these things find their ultimate meaning and fulfillment in the person and work of Christ. Take the bronze altar for example. This altar, described in Exodus 27:1-8, was the first thing you’d encounter after entering the courtyard of the tabernacle. This altar would be the altar of sacrifice, symbolizing the unholiness of humans and their need for a sacrifice to come into the presence of God. This sacrifice, as we’ve seen in our recent study of the Passover lamb, finds its ultimate fulfillment in the sacrifice of Christ on the cross. He is not only the tabernacle, the presence of God manifest on earth, but he is also the sacrifice by which we can be restored to this presence. What a wonderful truth! 

What about the golden lampstand? Described in Exodus 25:31-40, this lampstand is what brought light into the tabernacle. It was the only source of light in the Holy Place. It is the light by which the priest ministered in the tabernacle. This lampstand prepares us to see Christ, the one true light of the world (John 1:9). By Christ’s light, we are able to see the glory of the Father. 

I encourage you to read through Exodus 25-30 and study this for yourself. Ask yourself how each thing in these chapters finds its fulfillment in the person and work of Christ. 

As you study, praise God that he has so beautifully foreshadowed Christ through the whole Old Testament. What a blessing it is that God has so intentionally planned how history would point to the coming of His Son. May we be edified and he be glorified as we grow in the Scriptures, coming humbly to the feet of our Savior to meet him there.

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ in the Exodus (Exodus 12-15)

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There are a handful of themes in the Bible so significant that you can’t go many pages without encountering them. Israel’s exodus from the land of Egypt is one of those. Especially as you read through the Old Testament, you will find repeated allusions to this event: the Psalms recall the event as reason to praise God; God identifies himself throughout narrative events as the God who brought Israel out of Egypt; the entire overarching story of the Bible is rooted in the promise that God’s people would have a land he would provide for them. 

The Exodus is surely one of the most well known stories within the Bible. 

But do you know why it’s so significant? Do you know why the story is about more than God opposing slavery or about his miraculous ability to part the seas (though both of those things are important)? 

The story of God leading Israel out of slavery in the land of Egypt to freedom in a land of abundance is foreshadowing of the greater exodus to come, one that us followers of Jesus get to personally experience. 

As bad as Israel’s condition in Egypt was, there is a condition far worse that is experienced not only by one group of people at a specific time, but by all people of all time. It is the shackles of sin, the enslavement to evil, by which we are all united. It’s not that we’re all a mixed bag of good and evil, striving for the good to prevail within us, as we so often like to think. Paul stated our condition bluntly: “You were dead” (Ephesians 2:1). The sinner has the power to free himself from sin no more than a dead man has the power over death to make himself alive. It’s an impossibility. We, on the basis of our own power, were without hope. 

“But God…” 

Ephesians 2:4 contains perhaps the two most powerful words in the Bible. But God. A beam of light breaks through an impenetrable darkness. God is our only hope of life. God is our only hope of exodus, a departure from the domain of death. 

As we saw last week, God provided the means of our escape. By the blood of our passover lamb, Jesus, we are passed over from judgment. Now, having been passed over, we look to the land into which God is bringing us. 

For Israel, the land of Canaan was the Promised Land. It was a land flowing with milk and honey, a place to be their own where they could worship the Lord and represent him to the surrounding nations. It would be a place where they could experience rest from their enemies. But this land would never hold a candle to what it would typify. 

The Israelites wanted rest from the oppression they faced in Egypt. Followers of Jesus recognize that there is a greater rest we desire. Humans desire a truer rest, one from the very nature of sin, one that will free us to live in harmony with our God according to how we’ve been created. 

Listen to what the writer to the Hebrews has to say about this rest: 

“For if Joshua had given them rest, God would not have spoken of another day later on. So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his. Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience” (Hebrews 4:8-11).

Joshua, who would later lead Israel into the Promised Land, didn’t fully deliver the people into the rest that God promised. This would be done by Jesus, God himself, through his death and resurrection. 

When Jesus was raised, he defeated the powers of death that enslave us all and provided us a firm assurance that he will lead us to the Promised Land, heaven. 

This truth allowed Jude to write that it was Jesus who brought Israel out of Egypt, recognizing a greater Exodus was being prepared after the deliverance of Israel (Jude 5).

Read Revelation 21-22 for a depiction of the Promised Land we look forward to, heaven on earth where we followers of Jesus will be forever free from our greatest oppressors. 

As you read the Old Testament and encounter the theme of exodus, let your eyes be drawn to Christ, to God your deliverer. Don’t stay in Egypt to be judged. Don’t lose heart in the wilderness. Press on with full assurance of your complete deliverance.

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ in the Passover (Exodus 12)

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When I read Scripture, I find it helpful to put myself into the shoes of the people living during the stories taking place. This isn’t to make the Bible about me– it’s all about God– but to remind me of the humanity of the characters in the Bible. Too often, I’m tempted to assume that the people spread across the pages of Scripture were somehow oblivious to the miraculous nature of the events surrounding their lives. For instance, I find myself tempted to, as a default, assume that the Israelites saw the plagues befalling Egypt and merely shrugged. Ah, just another Tuesday. When I put myself in their shoes, I have to think how awestruck I’d be at the circumstances taking place. 

I must keep in mind that these were normal humans, just like the rest of us. Surely this realization reignites our wonder at the miracles God performs as his story unfolds in the world. God is like no other; the ten plagues instituted by God served to destroy any argument to the contrary. May we proclaim this truth today as we witness the powerful intervention of God to save his people from evil. 

As the story of the book of Exodus unfolds, nine plagues in the Pharaoh of Egypt still stubbornly refused to release the Israelites from their captivity. But the tenth would be unlike the ones before it. God declared that in the night, he would strike dead the firstborn of all in Egypt– from Pharaoh’s child to the cattle in the field. This would be a harsh, painful plague representing the affliction Egypt has caused for centuries to God’s firstborn, Israel (Exodus 4:22-23). 

There was one way, however, for the plague to be avoided: to spread a lamb’s blood across the doorposts of the home. This, explained in the detailed instructions provided in Exodus 12, was the means of salvation through which the Israelites and any wise Egyptians would be delivered. 

In order for there to be deliverance, there must first be a sacrifice. Passover precedes the exodus. Throughout the narrative of the Bible, it becomes increasingly clear that there is a greater plague– a greater judgment– for which there must be a greater sacrifice. Humans are imprisoned under the power of sin, a power greater than Pharaoh himself, and there must be a greater lamb whose blood has more power. This is because “it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Hebrews 10:4).

Who is this greater Lamb, the one whose blood can take away sins? It is Jesus, the lamb of God (John 1:29). The Passover lamb was to be without blemish (v.5); Jesus was perfectly sinless (1 Peter 1:18-19). He could not have atoned for our sins if he himself was sinful. The lamb was to be kept from the tenth day to the fourteenth (v.3-6). Jesus similarly entered Jerusalem four days before his death, occurring around the time of the celebration of Passover (Matthew 21:1-11). 

Verse 46 informs us that the lamb’s bones couldn’t be broken, and we know from the New Testament that Jesus’ bones were not broken on the cross, despite that being a typical method to speed up the criminal’s death during a crucifixion (John 19:33-36). 

Most significantly, the lamb’s blood was to spread over the doorposts to signify that the family inside was backed by God and his provision (v.7). Jesus’ blood was spread across the wooden beams of the cross, and all who place themselves under the lordship of Christ accept God’s provision for escaping judgment. 

Take a moment and meditate on Exodus 12. Can you think of any other ways that the life and death of Jesus connect him to the Passover? 

As you consider the implications of Jesus being our Passover lamb, I want to draw your attention to the nature of our salvation for a moment. Don Carson has a powerful illustration about how our feelings relate to our salvation that I believe gives us renewed joy and strength in the Lord. 1This picture invites us to do as I said at the beginning, to put ourselves in the shoes of the people within the story. He tells us to consider two fathers living in Egypt during the time of the first Passover, Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones. They’re talking about all the wild stuff they’ve witnessed recently, and they both affirm that they have followed Moses’ instructions diligently to protect their families from the impending tenth plague. 

Mr. Jones admits he is still nervous, that he loves his son dearly and couldn’t imagine losing him. Mr. Smith responds matter-of-factly that he shouldn’t be concerned because they have both covered their homes with the blood of a lamb. Still, Mr. Jones can’t help but feel uneasy at the whole situation, struggling to have the same level of trust and confidence as Mr. Smith. 

When the angel of death passed through the land that night, which father lost his son? 

Neither! 

And that’s the whole point. Carson says, “The fulfillment of God’s promise that the angel of death would simply “pass over” and not destroy their firstborns depended not on the intensity of the faith of the residents but only on whether or not they’d sprinkled blood on the doorposts and on the lintel.”2As we consider our own salvation from sin and death, we must understand that we are not saved because of the strength of our own faith. As I’ve heard it said, our salvation can be likened to a person hanging off a cliff. Weak faith in a strong branch bodes better for them than strong faith in a weak branch. It is the object of our faith that matters most. 

When you’re tempted to doubt the salvation God has freely graced us with through the cross and empty tomb of Christ, look to Jesus who is “the founder and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2). When we cry out, “I believe; help my unbelief” to our Lord, we can rest in confidence and joy that the one who hears us is the glorified Passover Lamb. 

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ in Jacob’s Wrestling (Gensis 32)

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One thing that’s become increasingly clear to me over the years is that most characters in the Bible were way worse than we thought as kids. People we have a tendency to put on pedestals were actually sinners undeserving of God’s grace, not A+ humans. There are a lot of examples to give, and it’s not really useful for us to try and rank them, but for what it’s worth I think that Jacob is pretty high (or low, for that matter) on that list. 

I really appreciate how much of the Genesis narrative is devoted to telling Jacob’s story because he… well, he wasn’t the best of people. There’s not much I can do to sugarcoat it. He was named heel because he came out of the womb grabbing onto his twin brother Esau’s heel (Genesis 25:26). And he sure lived up to his name. He was the kind of guy who would grab your heel and trip you up in order to get ahead. Not a great role model. 

Up to the point in the narrative that we’ll be looking at today (chapter 32), Jacob most notably had manipulated Esau into selling his birthright and stolen his blessing from their father. His actions led him to flee from Esau to Paddan-Aram, the area where Abraham’s father settled when they were journeying from Ur in Babylonia toward Canaan (what was the Promised Land). His deceitful actions led him to literally leave the Promised Land and “go backwards” to where his ancestors had come from; this is a picture of how sin reverses God’s good plans. 

In Paddan-Aram, Jacob met up with his uncle Laban, a heel-grabber on par with Jacob himself. A couple of decades passed, and Laban’s trickery had resulted in a lot of familial turmoil. God eventually instructed Jacob to return to the Promised Land (31:1-3), and so he left with his wives and livestock to return to where his brother was. Understandably, he was pretty fearful of how Esau was going to react. He figured that the 20 years apart only served to cement the grudge. Oh, how Esau would have dreamt of this day of vengeance. 

Jacob’s great plan was to coax Esau into kindness by sending him a bunch of gifts. Eventually, out of rope, Jacob prayed (32:9-12). He prayed to the God of his ancestors, to his God. He confessed his unworthiness of God’s love and praised God for his provision. He asked God– on this basis of God’s character and not his own– to spare him from Esau’s wrath. 

In true Jacob fashion, though, trusting God’s promise was not enough. He still went through with his original plan to send gifts, and so he sent three groups of herdsmen ahead of him while he stayed at the camp. 

In verse 24, the story gets weird. Left alone, we’re told that a man wrestled with him until the morning. This is certainly an odd moment. Who is this man? Where did he come from? Why is his instinct to get into a wrestling match with Jacob? 

The story continues. Jacob holds his own, and the man then touches his hip socket and pops it out of the socket. Jacob asks the man to bless him, something I can’t imagine asking in the middle of a wrestling match with a stranger– though, to be fair, I’ve never been in that situation. The man makes him identify himself– essentially making him admit to his heel-grabbing– and changes Jacob’s name to Israel. The last we hear of the man is that he ended up blessing him (v.29). 

So… where is Jesus? 

Well, given the context clues, I’m sure you can guess that the man Jacob wrestled with points to Jesus somehow. That’s correct! 

Let’s walk through it to make sure we understand how this is clear in the text. 

For starters, within the passage itself we see a few hints. After Jacob is blessed, he names the place Peniel, which means that he has seen God face to face and lived. The only person he’s seen face to face in the narrative is the mysterious man, and so Jacob makes it clear that this man is God. This is a theophany. To solidify this, it makes sense for the man to be God since Jacob asked him for a blessing, something he wouldn’t have asked of a random man. 

The prophet Hosea bolsters this view when he claims that Jacob “strove with the angel and prevailed” (Hosea 12:4). Hosea adds extra context to inform us that Jacob wrestled with the Angel of the Lord, the interesting figure we looked at last week. This angel– this messenger– of God, points to Jesus! 

So it is God himself wrestling with Jacob in Genesis 32. One of the first questions that pops up after making this connection is to ask… If this man is really God, why couldn’t he win against Jacob? Why couldn’t the creator of the universe– of Jacob himself– defeat him? Obviously, he could have. So we have to ask a different question: What is this story pointing to? Is there another time you can think of where man seemed to defeat God? Where God seemed to lose the battle in the moment, but what would ultimately result in the greatest blessing of all? See, this is all pointing us to the cross of Christ! Surely, Jesus could’ve stepped down from the cross at any moment. He was not powerless against the Roman guards. His loss was voluntary, for our ultimate good. 

No matter how much of a heel-grabber you are, Jesus offers mercy through his death and resurrection. In light of the cross, we have more of the picture painted for us than Jacob did when he wrestled with God. When you find yourself in those through-the-night, exhausting, stalemate-inducing battles with your King, don’t ever forget that your striving is not in vain. Even when you walk away with a limp– and Lord knows, you will– this newfound dependence on God through his mercy will be an even greater blessing than whatever you sought from him on your own terms. 

Christ in the Old Testament: Christ in the Binding of Isaac (Genesis 22)

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Genesis 22 is a common passage people wrestle with. God is supposedly good and loving, and yet here he point-blank asks Abraham to kill his own son. How do we reconcile that reality with the truth about God we see throughout the rest of the Bible? Is this story an ancient tale revealing God as a brute or is it a beautiful picture of God’s character? I’m arguing for the latter. 

After promising Abraham many descendents (12:2), entering into a covenant with him (15:1-21), confirming this covenant (17:4-14), and determining that Abraham and his wife Sarah will bear a child themselves in their old age (17:17-21), Isaac is finally born (21:1-7). It’s a joyous occasion worth celebrating. God has delivered on his promise. So far, so good. 

But then things take an abrupt, confusing turn as we enter Genesis 22. In the first two verses, God commands Abraham to take this son and sacrifice him. I’ll admit, this tends to make me raise my eyebrows and squint a bit. Thankfully, with a careful reading of Scripture we can see the beauty of this text. 

For starters, there’s a piece of information in verse 1 present for the reader but absent from Abraham as he’s given the command: this is a test. The implication is that God never intended for Abraham to actually sacrifice Isaac. It’s all about Abraham’s faith. God has promised him repeatedly that he will make a great nation out of him through which he will bless the world; will Abraham stand firm in trust? One writer summarized the dilemma well, saying “Abraham had left his home in Ur and given up his past for the sake of God’s promise. Now he was being asked if he would trust God by apparently surrendering his future as well.”1. God understood the gravity of the request, emphasizing not only that Isaac is the fulfillment of a promise, but that Abraham deeply loves Isaac (v. 3).

Abraham, in faith, trusted God. The next morning, he got up and took Isaac and two servants on a multi-day journey to a mountain in the region of Moriah. It’s crucial to notice Abraham’s words to the servants in verse 5. There, he affirms that he and Isaac are going to worship God, and they will both return soon. Whatever happens on top of the mountain, Abraham believes that God will intervene. If he must sacrifice his son, he believes that God will raise him from the dead (Hebrews 11:19). 

This truth is solidified further in verses 6-8. Isaac astutely notices that everything is present for the sacrifice… except the sacrifice. Abraham answers that God will provide. Consider that to be strong foreshadowing. 

Finally, on the mountain, Abraham prepared the altar, and then tied Isaac to it, pulling the knife on him and preparing to sacrifice him. No dialogue between Abraham and Isaac is recorded here, but I can’t imagine the tension present as Isaac was bound to the altar. Dad, if you’re reading this, don’t get any ideas! 

Finally, in the height of the tension, the angel of the Lord stopped him, affirming his faith and obedience to God. The story ends with Abraham seeing and sacrificing instead a ram caught in a thicket. He praises God as Jehovah-Jireh, the Lord who provides, and is then reassured by the angel of the Lord that God’s promises to him will come true. 

It’s time we ask our key question: where is Jesus in this story? 

I would encourage you to take a few moments and reread Genesis 22, looking for the various connections to the life and work of Jesus. If you’re up for the challenge, try to find at least five connections before reading the rest of this post. 

Now let me point out a few that stick out to me. 

Starting in verse 2, God’s request for Abraham to sacrifice his only son, the one whom he loves, is a sentiment echoed in perhaps the most famous Bible verse, John 3:16. Jesus is God’s beloved son (Mark 1:11), and yet God is willing to walk the very path he calls Abraham to walk in faith. The contrast here is that Jesus willingly offered himself as a sacrifice; Isaac was not active in the decision in Genesis 22. 

Abraham and Isaac traveled alongside two servants, which can be reminiscent of the two criminals accompanying Jesus on the cross. Isaac carried the wood on his back as Jesus carried his cross. They were both raised (Jesus, literally; Isaac, figuratively) on the third day. 

The sacrifice took place on a mountain in the land of Moriah– interestingly, this is the same location where Solomon would eventually build the temple (2 Chronicles 3:1). Burnt offerings, according to Leviticus, were to be male animals without blemish whose death would make atonement for the offerer. We know that Jesus is ultimately the spotless lamb who offered once for all for our sake on the cross (read Hebrews 9:1-10:18). 

On the mountain, Jehovah-Jireh gave Abraham a ram (an adult male sheep) to offer instead of his son. God has likewise provided a spotless ram in our place, his head caught in a crown of thorns (Matthew 27:29). 

There’s one more connection I want to bring to light, one that will show up repeatedly throughout the Old Testament. In verses 11-12, we’re told that it’s the angel of the Lord who stops Abraham from killing Isaac. A few verses later, in verses 15-18, this angel of the Lord reconfirms God’s covenant with Abraham that he’s established in the preceding chapters. I find it interesting that it’s God who talks to him directly at the beginning of the story, but then relegates the rest of the interaction to one of his angels. Why is this? Why has God gone silent? 

The answer? He hasn’t! If you remember the introductory post to this series, I referred to theophanies– visual appearances of God that point to the incarnation– as one way we see our Messiah in the Old Testament. This is one of those times! See, the Angel of the Lord is best understood to prefigure Jesus! 

The Angel of the Lord is a unique messenger of God who appears numerous times in the Old Testament. But this angel is not just a messenger. He’s also the Lord himself. This messenger of God communicates God’s words, but also speaks and acts in ways that are exclusive to the Lord himself. Read the story of Hagar in Genesis 16 and Moses in Exodus 3 to see a couple other examples of the angel of the Lord appearing to also be the Lord himself. This distinction provides a basic framework for our understanding of the Trinity, that Jesus is both God and yet distinct in personhood from the Father.  

Praise be to God that he is willing to do all that he asks of his people, that he has given up his beloved Son for our sake, that we may be reconciled to Him! Praise be to God that he knows the purity of our relationship with Him is more important than the blessings we receive from Him!