A Taste of Liberation
Exodus 12:1-13; 13:1-8
12:1 The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt: 2 This month shall mark for you the beginning of months; it shall be the first month of the year for you. 3 Tell the whole congregation of Israel that on the tenth of this month they are to take a lamb for each family, a lamb for each household. 4 If a household is too small for a whole lamb, it shall join its closest neighbor in obtaining one; the lamb shall be divided in proportion to the number of people who eat of it. 5 Your lamb shall be without blemish, a year-old male; you may take it from the sheep or from the goats. 6 You shall keep it until the fourteenth day of this month; then the whole assembled congregation of Israel shall slaughter it at twilight. 7 They shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it. 8 They shall eat the lamb that same night; they shall eat it roasted over the fire with unleavened bread and bitter herbs.9 Do not eat any of it raw or boiled in water, but roasted over the fire, with its head, legs, and inner organs. 10 You shall let none of it remain until the morning; anything that remains until the morning you shall burn. 11 This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly. It is the passover of the Lord. 12 For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike down every firstborn in the land of Egypt, both human beings and animals; on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. 13 The blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you live: when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt.13:1 The Lord said to Moses: 2 Consecrate to me all the firstborn; whatever is the first to open the womb among the Israelites, of human beings and animals, is mine. 3 Moses said to the people, "Remember this day on which you came out of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, because the Lord brought you out from there by strength of hand; no leavened bread shall be eaten. 4 Today, in the month of Abib, you are going out. 5 When the Lord brings you into the land of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites, which he swore to your ancestors to give you, a land flowing with milk and honey, you shall keep this observance in this month. 6 Seven days you shall eat unleavened bread, and on the seventh day there shall be a festival to the Lord. 7Unleavened bread shall be eaten for seven days; no leavened bread shall be seen in your possession, and no leaven shall be seen among you in all your territory. 8 You shall tell your child on that day, "It is because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt.'
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Why is this night different from all other nights? This is the first of question asked by the youngest child at a Jewish Passover table. It comes after the stranger has been welcomed and the unleavened bread is broken and it begins the retelling and remembering of this sacred story of Exodus which is instituted in ritual here.
Sometimes a meal is just a meal, a necessary part of our daily rhythms of survival. Sometimes we get so caught up in other things, we almost forget about its significance. Sometimes it is truly a delight and a joy, but only at a surface level that dissipates as soon as the plates are cleared.
But sometimes…if we’re paying attention…a meal can also be something quite different than all that. Don’t get me wrong, I very much enjoy my life-sustaining chips and queso, but here we see the possibility…the prescription…the promise…of something more.
Meals themselves can tell important stories. Not only the food, but the process and all its elements involve us in those stories in ways that literally fuel our bodies and get into our souls.
Every element is more than a piece of a recipe or a legalistic requirement; it holds deep meaning - the timing, the ingredients, the practices of sharing and serving. This Passover meal is to happen at the beginning of marked time, it reflects and creates new beginning. The lamb or goat is to be young and without blemish, one that reflects and conveys the purifying power of God. There is to be enough for everyone without scarcity or hoarding or waste, reflecting and providing God’s care of the whole community through one another. Even the clothing to be worn and the manner in which it is to be eaten – fully clothed with shoes and tools and tempo prepared for a journey, reflects and prepares a life in God who is on the move.
Many parts of the meal and these practices are not entirely unique to this moment. It’s not the only time they would eat lamb or roast it or join together as a community around tables. But the particular way in which their hearts are focused and its purpose made clear sets this meal apart.
The Hebrew tradition asks, why is this night different from all other nights?
In the Lutheran tradition, we reflect on God’s commands and gifts by asking, what does this mean?
This literal foretaste of the feast to come. This sacred meal which is to be a catalyst of liberation, itself a taste of what liberated life is like – beautiful, delicious, enough, shared, and anything but stagnant, a beacon of life in the midst of death. This power of food to tell a sacred story that courses through our blood and our bones to take up life within us.
I would proclaim that long before the historical Jesus of Nazareth walked the earth, God has always been an incarnational God – one who is about the blessing and redemption of our physical bodies as well as our heart, mind, and soul. That the Good News of life and love that overcome death and despair is to be experienced and as well as heard. The pairing of practice and story create a ritual of connection and meaning.
It points to not only what to do but how and why – connecting us to God, ourselves, and community. It culminates in the command: “You shall tell your child on that day, "It is because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt.'” No matter how many generations removed for this historic saving act, the proclamation is made: this is what God has done for ME. God’s saving liberation work is just as true and palpable for me today as it was millennia ago. The ritual meal help connects that promise across time and place. Even as the night of Passover arrived and everyone was confined to their different houses, they shared in this holy connection.
We already know how this works at our own tables, even if we’re not always aware of it.
The manner of a meal can hold deep sacred meaning. You’ve probably heard people talk about how the crunch and sweetness of a salad is enriched when they know it came from their own garden or at least one that isn’t abstract to them. I currently have meat in my freezer that came from a cow that a bunch of different households went it together to buy. So when we grill up our hamburgers, I can not help but think of those who are connected to us through this beef. I cannot help but feel connected to stories of my ancestors who were part of butcher clubs that shared the work and bounty of a whole hog among other homesteading families.
Houston Chef Johnny Rhodes at Indigo - https://www.htxindigo.com/
Back when indoor dining at restaurants was a thing, I was invited for a meal at Indigo where a young black Houston chef cooks for just 14 people at a time around a u-shaped table, serving dishes inspired by slave cooking and African-American kitchens and reclaiming it as the marvel of cuisine it is, as he, in fact, tells those stories of origin as the meal is served – greens and turnip hams and oxtails and okra-seed coffee, cooked over open fire we could see and smell – once signifiers of cruelty and poverty…transformed to a means of dignity and deliverance. Food is always connected to story and to memory that reflects and creates deep sacred meaning…if we approach it with the intention and attention to notice. Food isn’t the only way this happens, but it is certainly one of the ways.
We didn’t read scripture around the u-shaped table that night, but we did yearn to further know God and one another in that space, and you can’t tell me that experience wasn’t sacred.
And being set apart as sacred doesn’t mean escapist. It doesn’t negate the ways suffering is still also connected to the story. The Hebrews are instructed to eat bitter herbs that acknowledge the bitterness of slavery, of oppression that is so ingrained in their being that it will take generations to truly escape. At the Seder meal, a portion of wine is removed from the cup because the joy it symbolizes cannot be complete or full while even the Egyptians have cause to grieve. This holy table is big enough to hold these complexities too. In truth it is the WHOLE story and not just the highlight reel that points to the fullness of this meal of liberation.
As Christians, the sacred communion meal that reflects resurrection and wholeness, is also tied to the cross. Elements which are pressed, broken, and dispersed as Christ’s own body, somehow connect, heal, and liberate. It is a profound mystery. In simple bread and drink (which would have been a staple of any table at any day of the week), combined with story and community…something more than the sum of its parts takes place.
It is a meal that is alike but different than others, even other holidays and feasts. It is about remembering but also experiencing. A common invitation to the table is to “taste and see that God is good.” This is a meal that is about abiding presence and promise – a liberation not only from cruel tyrants (definitely always that) but also from the cosmic oppression of sin that would continue the cycle. It is a feast that reflects both the completion of liberation and the still unfolding nature of it. This is not just a throwback, but remembering that ushers us forward, even through the wilderness, to continue and nourish us for the work of liberation.
And so we set the table and gather round, as of old, to be joined together even as we are apart, to remember what God has done and is doing among us. It is not about pomp or circumstance, or ritual for its own sake, but a means of saving grace for all of creation. Amen.