New Life in the New Year
A brief exploration of the Exodus story
I’m going to start the new year with a strange question. What would you think if someone suggested we stop celebrating New Year’s Day on January 1st, and move it instead to April 1st? Though it might sound like an odd April Fool’s joke of some kind, we actually find something close to this in Exodus chapter 12.
The book of Exodus records the story of God’s intervention and rescue of the Israelites from their centuries-long captivity as slaves in Egypt. In fact, this liberating event was so significant that in Exodus 12:1-2, God specifically tells Moses and Aaron, “This month shall be for you the beginning of months. It shall be the first month of the year for you” (Ex 12:2). The month referred to here was Nisan, and these words make clear that though it wasn’t previously celebrated as the first month of the year, for the Israelites it would be, from that time onward.1
In some ways, it’s fitting that Nisan would be considered the first month of the new year since it was the first month of spring, which is a time of “new life.” Flowers begin to bud, trees put out their leaves, and the grass begins to turn green. It seems appropriate, therefore, that this should be the start of a brand new year, since creation itself comes alive once more, after its long winter slumber. This was the season that God chose to intervene on behalf of his people in order to liberate them from slavery. It was a time of new life, new creation, and new identity.
But in Exodus 12, with all of this special focus on new life, new identity, and a new beginning for the people of Israel, the story unexpectedly shifts to the dark subject of death. In verses 3-7, the people of Israel were instructed to separate a lamb from their flock on the 10th, slaughter it at twilight on the 14th, and then smear the lifeblood of this lamb on the doorposts of their homes. In verses 12-13, God specifically says,
On that night I will pass through the land of Egypt and strike down every firstborn son and firstborn male animal in the land of Egypt. I will execute judgment against all the gods of Egypt, for I am Yahweh! But the blood on your doorposts will serve as a sign, marking the houses where you are staying. When I see the blood, I will pass over you. This plague of death will not touch you when I strike the land of Egypt.
Often when people summarize the Exodus story, they speak of “the angel of death” who passes over Israelite homes with blood on the doorposts. But, surprisingly, no angel appears anywhere in this passage. What we find instead is that Yahweh himself is the one who comes to execute judgment. He is the one who passes over every Israelite home smeared with blood.
Once the people of Israel were liberated from bondage, they weren’t called to express that freedom in any way they chose. In other words, autonomy wasn’t the goal. Since Yahweh had demonstrated his superiority over all the rulers of Egypt and their gods, he was to be honored and worshipped by the Israelites as their sovereign. Since he graciously and unexpectedly liberated the Israelite nation, they are now his people. Formerly, they were slaves of Pharoah—now they are called to be servants of God.
In numerous places throughout Exodus, God specifically says that he called the people of Israel out of Egypt, that “they may serve [him] in the wilderness.” This is what they had been redeemed for. This was their new calling and vocation at the beginning, not only of this new year, but of an entirely new epoch in the history of redemption.
A Hint of Things to Come
Here’s the truly amazing thing about the story of Exodus. As you step back and realize the significance of this defining moment in Israel’s history, it’s somewhat shocking to discover later on that the entire narrative serves as a mere prologue to an even greater exodus still yet to come. We get a glimpse of this in Luke 9 at the Mount of Transfiguration. In verses 29-31, we’re told that as Jesus was praying, his face changed, and his clothing became dazzling white. Then, Moses and Elijah appeared with him and “spoke of his departure which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.” The way this is worded in English sounds a bit strange since we don’t usually speak of someone accomplishing a departure. Usually they just “get up and go.” But it makes a little more sense when you read the passage in the original Greek, since according to Luke, Moses and Elijah stood there with Jesus and “spoke of the ἔξοδος (exodus) that he was about to accomplish.”
There are other hints like this recorded throughout the Gospels. In John’s Gospel, for example, Jesus compares himself to the manna that the people ate after the original exodus that sustained God’s people in the wilderness and gave them life. “If anyone eats of this bread,” he says, “he will live forever.” In chapter 7, he compares himself to the life-giving water that flowed from the rock, and at the very Temple ritual that commemorated this exodus event, he cried out saying, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” In John 8, Jesus declared that he came to liberate his people from captivity, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” This is the ultimate exodus that Jesus came to accomplish, not merely for Israel, but for a new international community of saints scattered around the world (cf. Is 49:6, Mt 8:11, Jn 11:52, Gal 3:28).
At the very opening of John’s Gospel, we’re told that one afternoon, John the Baptist pointed to Jesus and declared him to be “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” Admittedly, there are many different descriptions John could have used to hint at Jesus’ mission. He could have said, “Behold, the Messiah” or “Behold the king of Israel” (titles which are applied to Jesus in that very chapter as the narrative unfolds). But here at the outset of Jesus’s ministry, John used a specific title that gets to the very heart and center of Jesus’ redemptive work. He identified Jesus as the Passover Lamb of the new international exodus.
Now, when John the Baptist was asked whether he was the Christ, he replied by citing Isaiah chapter 40: “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord.” This passage serves as a kind of prologue to what many scholars refer to as The Servant Songs of Isaiah. In fact, many theologians argue that John’s description of Jesus as the Lamb of God is drawn chiefly from the fourth and final Servant Song found in Isaiah 52 and 53.
Notice the Exodus themes that appear in verses 7-10 of chapter 52:
How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.” The voice of your watchmen—they lift up their voice; together they sing for joy; for eye to eye they see the return of the LORD to Zion. Break forth together into singing, you waste places of Jerusalem, for the LORD has comforted his people; he has redeemed Jerusalem. The LORD has bared his holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.
What is this story about? Isaiah makes clear in verse 9 that it’s a story of redemption. Who is this story about? According to verse 10, this redemption is not for Israel alone, but all nations, since Isaiah records that “the ends of the earth will see [God’s] salvation.” Now, notice what happens in verses 11 and 12: “Depart, depart, go out from there; touch no unclean thing; go out from the midst of her...For you shall not go out in haste, and you shall not go in flight, for the LORD will go before you, and the God of Israel will be your rear guard.”
Did you happen to catch all the allusions to the original exodus? “Depart, Depart, go out from there!” This is what we who live at the ends of the earth are being called to do. We’ve been invited to join this new international exodus that was prophesied thousands of years ago by Isaiah. According to Exodus 12, the people were called to eat the first Passover meal in haste with their belts fastened, but the new exodus will be different. This time God’s people will not flee from the nation that held them captive in fear of an attacking army. But as with the first exodus, Yahweh will go before his people: “In my Father’s house are many rooms,” Jesus says. “If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also” (John 14:2-3).
Behold My Servant
In verses 13-15 of Isaiah 52, the prophet then says this:
Behold, my servant shall act wisely; he shall be high and lifted up, and shall be exalted. As many were astonished at you—his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the children of mankind so shall he sprinkle many nations. Kings shall shut their mouths because of him, for that which has not been told them they see, and that which they have not heard they understand.
This is incredibly mysterious language. This coming servant will be exalted, and yet also marred beyond recognition. And in the process, he will sprinkle many nations. The Hebrew word here translated as sprinkle (נָזָה) happens to be the same word used to describe the high priest’s actions in the Holy of Holies on the day of atonement as he sprinkled blood on the mercy seat. But here, it’s not just Israel, but many nations who are the beneficiaries of this atonement. As a result, kings from around the world are left dumbstruck. As a rule kings, presidents, and politicians of just about every kind love hearing the sound of their own voices. They like being the center of attention as they issue decrees and come up with countless new rules and regulations. But here in Isaiah 52, something finally happens that causes them to shut their collective mouths.
As this prophecy continues into the next chapter, it becomes increasingly clear that Isaiah is referring to one man in particular who is “despised and rejected,” and also “pierced for our transgressions.” This is the servant song that John had in mind when he referred to Jesus as “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” This was Jesus’ ultimate mission as he came to accomplish the greater and more ultimate exodus. He is the once-for-all Passover Lamb who was pierced for our transgressions. Again, the contrast is stark. Though we are given new life, and a new beginning, the suffering servant dies in our place, outside the camp. He was numbered with the transgressors so that we could be accounted righteous (Is 53:11-12).
In the first exodus, Yahweh demonstrated his sovereignty over all the so-called gods of Egypt, and over every Egyptian household. And to prevent their seed from being cut off, the Israelites smeared the blood of the Passover lamb on all their doorposts. But notice what happens when you compare this with the greater and more ultimate exodus. Not only is Jesus the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, but he’s also the “image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” Rather than slaying the firstborn sons of his enemies, in the new exodus, God’s own firstborn son was slain. Who could have imagined a reversal of this kind? This is the news that shuts the mouths of kings around the world and renders us all speechless.
The Humble Skeptic is now on Rumble! Watch video clips and listen to select episodes in an engaging new format. This is a great way to share content with others! Check it out HERE.
Jesus is the once-for-all Passover Lamb who died in our place. He’s the bread of life, the true living water, and the light of the world. He came to set us free from our ultimate captivity and bondage to sin. Therefore, if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed. But what should we do with our new freedom? Again, we need to consider not only what we have been saved from, but what we have been saved for.
In the first few verses of Romans 12, Paul writes, “I appeal to you by the mercies of God that you present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” This is what we have been redeemed for. The Greek word for “service” is λατρεία (latria). which can also be rendered, “worship.” Though many today think of worship as something we do once a week at church, in reality, it’s our ultimate calling. This is our calling at the beginning of this new year, and every year because Jesus accomplished a new and greater exodus that changed the very fabric of time—not merely for the Israelites, but for the entire world.
Shane Rosenthal is the founder and host of The Humble Skeptic podcast and the author of Is Faith Blind? (due in 2024). Shane was one of the creators of the White Horse Inn radio broadcast which he also hosted from 2019-2021, and has written numerous articles for various sites and publications, including TableTalk, Core Christianity, Modern Reformation, and others.
Related Articles
Sprinkled Nations & Speechless Kings, Shane Rosenthal
What’s the Most Important Thing in the Bible? Shane Rosenthal
Isaiah’s Prophecy of the Messiah’s Birth, Shane Rosenthal
Finding Christ in All of Scripture, Shane Rosenthal
The Story of Us, Shane Rosenthal
A New Way of Reading Scripture, Shane Rosenthal
Related Episodes
What Did The Earliest Christians Believe? Humble Skeptic #25 with Dennis Johnson
The Big Picture, Humble Skeptic #26 with J. Daniel Hays
Jewish Views of the Messiah, Humble Skeptic #38 with Daniel Boyariin
Were Jews Expecting a Suffering Messiah? Humble Skeptic #47
The Gospel Creed, Humble Skeptic #9
Related Books
Echoes of Exodus, Alastair Roberts & Andrew Wilson
The Lamb of God: Seeing Jesus in Exodus, Nancy Guthrie
God Dwells Among Us, G.K. Beale & Mitchell Kim
The Temple & The Church’s Mission, G.K. Beale
According to Plan, Graeme Goldsworthy
Christ From Beginning to End, Stephen Wellum
Journeys with Jesus, Dennis Johnson
In some ways, this can be a little confusing, since in contemporary Judaism, Rosh Hashana (or the Jewish New Year) is celebrated in the fall, just before Yom Kippur. According to the Talmud, after the Israelites were exiled to Babylon, they began to follow Babylonian customs and made use of a different calendar. That which modern Jews celebrate as Rosh Hashana isn’t referred to as a New Year celebration in Scripture. According to Leviticus 23, the feast of trumpets precedes Yom Kippur, and according to Moses, these were to be observed in the 7th month of Israel’s calendar. According to Exodus 12, however, the true Rosh Hashana (literally: “head of the year”), was to be celebrated each Spring, to commemorate God’s liberation of the Israelites from their slavery in Egypt.