Reflecting upon Pesach

Passover. My favorite holiday of the year. It is the time we remember how we were pulled from slavery; how will are eternally rescued from the curse of sin and death. And oh! How we need to remember; that there is a Law greater than the curse. That there is a Love greater than sin. That there is a Hope greater than the vaporous shadows and dim dimensions of this life. How easy it can be for our minds to be set on that which is directly before us; to forget eternity. 

The Almighty knew this; our frail human nature. And so he prescribed annual remembrance. The “Feasts of the Lord” are encoded within the pages of Life. Evident cycles of redemption throughout every story; every Feast from Shabbat, to Pesach, to Sukkot. Each ready for our participation; our consumption – our slow and thoughtful chewing upon and digestion of. That Word which is a lamp to our feet, and the same Word; Who was, is, and forever shall be. His provision of reminders later provided even more avenues to recall Truth. “As often as you eat of this [unleavened] bread, and drink of this [third Passover Cup of Redemption], do this in remembrance of me…” Remember I am the Chosen One (from before the foundations of the world were spoken into being) and in my love and mercy, I planned to come to buy back your life from the law of sin and death.To cover your blood guilt with my abundant life which extends past the edges of this “time realm.” “The LORD appeared to him long ago, saying, “I have loved you with an everlasting love; Therefore I have drawn you out with kindness.” Jeremiah 31:3

Pesach, is the time we remember how Blood is our only safe passage into life. But not just any blood; the blood of the only pure One. The Way, the Truth, and the Life. 

Our lives are a doorway; a passage of time within eternity. Our distracted and unfocused minds can quickly forget our place within a great universe of space and time – easily smudged from memory is our fitting. Our cares are significant yet they don’t exist in the same pressing way within heavenly realms – and so we must take time to remember. To cast our cares, and in that lighter space, to remember. Only in applying the life and way of Messiah to the lintel of our minds and the doorposts of our deeds, can we be rescued from the curse of death. Do you remember the story? How the death angel roamed through Goshen? There was only one way to live despite the curse.

We are made in the image of God; we are imbued with his character attributes. Did you know that your left side represents judgment and justice? Your right side represents the Love and Mercy of God. The strength of our arms reminds us of our daily deeds; whether from a place of kind intention, or selfish gain. The path to life requires regular application of Jesus’s practices to our deeds. In our desire for justice, the greater deeds of mercy & love must be enacted by His principles. Yes, He gave clear instructions and these are actions, not solely emotions. 

Our continual struggle, is to let our emotions align with the deeds of love and mercy we display. This is true intention. In Hebrew, the word is Kavanah, and it is our highest form of worship. To align our being in deed and heart. To “love the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength.” 

This Pesach, I am remembering that the Lamb of God, was silent before accusation, was forgiving in the face of betrayal, and was willing in the space of deep pain. The Great High Priest subjected Himself to this shadowland in order to become one of His created beings; to feel as we feel. Isaiah 53 explains His method and His motives. 

“He was despised and forsaken of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and like one from whom men hide their face He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried; yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed. All of us like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; but the LORD has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him. He was oppressed and He was afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth; like a lamb that is led to slaughter, and like a sheep that is silent before its shearers, so He did not open His mouth... Because He poured out Himself to death, and was numbered with the transgressors; yet He Himself bore the sin of many, and interceded for the transgressors.”

There is more in that passage. Take some time to chew on it this weekend if you haven’t already. You’ll find deep beauty there within the thorns. The thorns He wore. 

Passover has become one of our favorite family traditions. We have our favorite foods and our favorite ways to remember the plagues. But the diamond of meaning, is in the golden thread of redemption that wove its way from Goshen, through the sands of Arabia, and into the etching of words on stone. It has lit up every story of our faith with its glimmer, and is transcendent beyond the measure of time. Wound its way around a skull mounted cross in threads of flowing crimson and it culminated in tongues of fire; illuminating and teaching each one who follows the way. 

By the leaving of our Messiah, we have been given a great counselor, to teach us what it means to enact good deeds of mercy and love; to let them triumph over our need for justice (John 16:5-15). To apply Beatitudes to our thinking, and wash our minds in the water of the Word. That Word is the One who became flesh and dwelt among us; who was begotten before the foundations of time. To let Him wash our thinking and redeem the very processes by which we understand the world and life around us. To learn the meaning of abundant life and forego the slavery of this fallen realm. 

Passover for me, is the thread of His great Love which reaches beyond all space and time into my now. Passover is exactly what Job said: “‘He has redeemed my soul from going to the pit, and my life shall see the light.’ (Job 33:28)”

Wishing you and yours the remembrance of being Passed Over yet again. 

© Jena Rutan 2022. 

All rights reserved. 

Scripture references are from the NASB. 

—

For continued study and personal reflection

“For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you on the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood by reason of the life that makes atonement.”

Leviticus 17:11

“Say, therefore, to the sons of Israel, ‘I am the LORD, and I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians, and I will deliver you from their bondage. I will also redeem you with an outstretched arm and with great judgments.” 

Exodus 6:6 

“The blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you live; and when I see the blood I will pass over you, and no plague will befall you to destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt. ‘Now this day will be a memorial to you, and you shall celebrate it as a feast to the LORD; throughout your generations you are to celebrate it as a permanent ordinance.” 

Exodus 12:13-14

“The next day [John] saw Jesus coming to him and said, ‘Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!’”

John 1:29

“…For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed.”

1 Corinthians 5:7

“For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.” 

1 Corinthians 11:26

“He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace which He lavished on us.” 

Ephesians 1:5-8

“[Messiah entered] not through the blood of goats and calves, but through His own blood, He entered the holy place once for all, having obtained eternal redemption. … how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without blemish to God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?” 

Hebrews 9:12-14

“you were not redeemed with perishable things like silver or gold from your futile way of life inherited from your forefathers, but with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ.” 

1 Peter 1:18-19

Heaven’s Oath

My dear friends, how many are wrestling? With hardship, loss, or disappointment? In these dark days of winter when our frantic feet fumble across earth's crumbling crunchy crust – Let us encourage each other and together remember…

I’ve written this for you. For me. For all of us.

— • —

Heaven’s Oath
© 2018, Jena Rutan, all rights reserved.

In   b r o k e n   earth, 
dormant cold seed waits.

In   d a r k   velvet skies 
gleam celestial lights.

When cries thirsty land,

from  t e m p e s t  wave,

Heaven’s arms draw their rain.

Our Father in heaven brings life from what’s dead.

“Quiet down, O my soul,” Ancient wise kings once said.

Know He still hears – understands each hearts plight.

In winter’s silence dive deep,

Come with me, lift your eyes.

He is Solace for wanderers, a Shield to the weak.

The bright morning Star who guides weary feet.

Rejected ones friend, and despairing heart’s hope.

The branch from love’s root.

True Life we can know.

When each day feels uncertain

When hopelessness calls,

Let faith stir inside.

Let hope not fall.

Memory stones of bright past

recall goodness. His vast

ways aren’t our ways.

His thoughts far beyond.

His redemption, His plan

never fails, never wrong.

Know this my dear friends, He will do it again.

His faithfulness always endures past the end.

When weakness and cold

by fear grips and pulls –

This isn’t the time for regret and defeat,

but a season of strength, a renewal of peace.

His lamp illuminates truth through black days.

When sight becomes blind, trust goodness, see grace.

Let’s not become weary by walking in light

For harvest will come at the end of this night.

So let roots grow down deep.

Be nourished, come eat –

in knowledge of him.

His bread. His wine.

We together can learn

the depth, width, and height.

— • —

Jesus’s love never fails me.

My companion beside,

My peace and my all,

He covers my life

His feathers surround,

His Word is my guide

Protecting and healing,

sharing peace in the night.

— • —

His whisper we hear,

“Take up courage, persevere!”

“Together my children

run this race,

come be near.

Lay your head on My heart,

Know My warm embrace,

I’ve collected each prayer

Heard you face to face.“

When your heart cries out for direction and meaning

When your marriage is fumbling

your children careening

When you don’t have answers

When purpose is lame

He is there. Yes He’s here

Let Him kindle the flame.

As the Northern star shines

Once more we recall

The Father of lights

Authors good for us all

His love endures

He never will change

In His book are recorded

Each one's joy and each pain

And when beaming sun rises,

morning by morning,

How expansive His kindness

So immense His outpouring.

Giving bread to His children,

Softly sending the snow.

In loyal endurance,

Eternal His oath.

Forgiveness

Forgiveness, they say, is to let go of vengeance. To release someone from the pain they've caused, and set them free. To love regardless, and willingly set revenge aside. Forever. 

How was your pain written? Was it the slow drip of words? Words through time, diminishing your being, rendering you paralyzed, like a dirty cleaning rag? Was it action? Perhaps inconsiderate thoughtlessness, or worse yet, calculated intention shot through your soul like the dagger of betrayal. Perhaps you’ve been misused, or taken for granted. Maybe you were someone else's experiment and you've felt the emptiness of freedom to direct your own existence. 

We've all been in this place. Sometime. Somehow. It’s cloaked in many forms, yet the garment is always hemmed with sorrow, or anger. The place of being hurt. The place of misunderstanding and brokenness. We've each experienced the shocking cold when blood and adrenaline courses through your heart, and numbs the space between your ears. It surges. The violation of others pressing on your very existence. Pressing you down. Pressing you against your choice. It is intimate, yet mostly arrives from those trusted. 

Sometimes those we love the closest, can see us only in one light. There is a mold and they’ve fit you in the box. The problem is obvious. Living things, beings; we all grow. We don't stay within the lines. Life prods, pokes, and urges us forward. Seasons change and bring both death and growth. With this cycle, each one of us, all of humanity moves and merges. We take on new abilities, we learn new realities, old thought patterns wither, naive dreams die. We are pruned, and cultivated as time passes by, and suddenly with the emergence of new green leaves we don’t look the same to the companions of our past. 

***

There is only one who can recognize and fully appreciate the course of this gentle growth. The farmer is alone in His supreme care and intimate knowing of every strong branch, and weak joint. He alone trims the dead branches; he alone visits his prized garden. He walks through in the cool of day, and at the break of morning, tenderly looking over His living tapestry. His hum can be heard as he gazes and waits.

He sees the bugs, crawling over leaves. He sees the birds, pecking for food. He knows all and in patience He looks toward the time of harvest. He isn’t swayed by the bugs, or detered by the birds. He waves them away, and tends carefully, always looking ahead with expectation and confident patience. 

The raspberry bush has her thorns, she has prickly leaves. She fends pests in her best way. But these, are the offense. Bugs cause the pain. Cute little rabbits, seem friendly until they eat away at the leaves, struggling to unfurl. What's that little plant gonna do? Is she going to attack the caterpillars with her sharp thorns? Can she? No, she will open her leaves to the sun. She will not hold the pests by the throat, waiting for their recompense. No, no. She will dig her roots, deep into the nourishing soil to find her strength. She will look to the sun, and wait for her rain. She will grow and wait for her fruit to develop and ripen. 

The peach tree has not seen fruit in two years. This is the third spring he has waited for his blossoms to cling to life in the midst of frost and snow. For years, he has seen barrenness and his harvest has not been. In spite of fertilizer, pollination, and healthy branches, he has only felt the longing; desire to feel joy he sees each other plant experience. The apple tree beside him and the grapes nearby all enjoy the prosperity of harvest. 

In the waiting, what can the peach tree do? Can he curse the snow? Can he take revenge on the other plants who have seen harvest upon harvest? No. He will not. He will wait. When the spring snow collects on his blossoms, he waits. His gardener lovingly and gently shakes the branches, and blesses the fruit of this tree. Yet the tree will wait. He has grown accustomed to reveling in the joy of spring, not expecting harvest, but expressing gratefulness. With the melting snow, the leaves courageously stretch, and the breath of angels heats the blossoms. This is the third year, yet this year, the harvest will come. Blossoms give way to budding fruit and growth has begun.

***

It is not up to any one of us to choose where we are planted, or what we will face to test our resolve. We cannot avoid the pain and injury that come with a fallen world. Sadly, we will endure scarring that will change our growth patterns. Have you already seen this? That time when you opened your heart to someone and then had to step outside of yourself while you watched them bruise and shred it into pieces. 

I suggest it for you, and grasp for this myself. In the face of agony and violation, the affront may feel great and it comes oh so easily to counterattack, curse, & plot revenge. However, you know it as well as I. It doesn't feel right; it is not in our highest nature to carry this out. It is only in our best nature, to let go of the offense. It is in our best scenario to trust the farmer. The gardener knows how to watch over His tender plants. He wants to yield a harvest, even more than every one of His plants. Can you? Can I? Dare I ask; can we learn a new growth pattern? The gardener will help. We can submit to his pruning, we can trust in His wisdom to trim the unproductive branches. He will remove the mental brokenness that causes us to cycle around and around in questions and wounded thought patterns. He will cut it off in the right season because He knows your ability to produce plenty of fruit. He plans for growth and is not discouraged by the garden pests. He takes it into account, while He surveys and prepares the soil. 

Oh little plant, tender growth still yet to see your capacity. With love I urge you, let go of the offense. Let go of the pain. Cry out to the tender caring Farmer. He is your ever present help in trouble. Write it, cry it, sing it, however you must, hand over the pain to the wise One. Jesus walks in the garden and He weeps with those who weep. He tastes your tears as His own and knows every betrayal. He isn’t oblivious, but was with you when those pests started eating away at you. He calls, “leave it to Me, trust Me with it. You don’t need to seek out the revenge, but just let your roots sink deep into My love. Let your leaves soak in my joy. It doesn’t come based on your situation, but only because I am faithful. I send rain on the just and the unjust alike. Leave your pain in my scarred hands, I understand and know. This is why you can let it go. Not because there isn’t hurt, but because you trust me to heal your hurt, and handle the one who brought hurt.” Jesus is the healing, and forgiveness is the key. 

© Jena Rutan 2016. All rights reserved. 

Scripture references are from the NASB. 

With you

Set me as a seal emblazoned on your heart

For love is as strong as the grave

I've found the one who delights my soul

You are my strength, my lover, my friend

Fishing laughter from my bleak

Determination when I'm weak

Dear love of my soul

With you I'll grow old

Heart flip flutters when your eyes spark a glance

Open soul warm my hand inside yours

With shield and sword onward trails we forge

Our fairy tale 's made in the nitty gritty days

Memories like fireflies in our wistful jar

Hanging hopes on the tail of our kite

Anchored each one in our steadfast assurance

Arms linked as one, faces set toward the son

© Jena Rutan 2016. All rights reserved. 

Scripture references are from the NASB.

New Day

Furtive glance at the sundial

Brand new day, already on my way

Sun beams through my baited breath

Awake with clouds of praise 

And I'm giving this day Lord to You

With it's hilltops and potholes, You'll see me through

And at the end of this day, please let me say

All glory and honor to You

The rhythm of the day rolls right along

When hiccups come I hold tight to your song

Stretching my faith, testing my steps

Feeling weak until I fall on that cornerstone

And I'm giving this day Lord to You

It's got victory and weakness, You're leading me through

And at the end of this day, I want this life to say

All glory and honor to You

Shadows stretch and my shoulders feel weary

I glance back at this day and see your loyalty

My patience is tired but You know who I can be

You won't let these obstacles overwhelm me

And I've given this day Lord to You

It was triumph and failure, but You walked me through

And at the end of this day, on my bed I lay

Giving glory and honor to You

© Jena Rutan 2015. All rights reserved. 

Scripture references are from the NASB.