December 19

“They shall take to them every man a lamb, according to the house of their fathers, a lamb for an house.”—Exodus 12:3.

A LAMB without blemish: it is the fitting emblem of my stainless Jesus. He is whiter than the new-fallen snow. He is brighter than the noonday sun. There is no spot in Him. East and west, the world does not hold His like.

A Lamb slain: it is the sad and glorious prophecy of my suffering Redeemer. He was Victim as well as Victor. He was Sacrifice as well as Priest. The pains of His body on the altar of the cross, and the sadder pains of His mind, and the far deeper pains of His soul —how can I estimate them?

A Lamb of refuge: it is the representation of my all-sufficient Saviour. Behind His blood shed for me I take my stand; and the destruction passes over, and all is well.

A Lamb to be received with bitter herbs: it is the remembrancer of my Lord. I look on Him whom I have pierced, and I mourn for Him. It is with sorrow as well as with joy that I welcome His salvation—sorrow for my sin that cost Him so dear.

A Lamb to be eaten in haste: again it is the type of Him whose I am. His flesh is meat indeed, and His blood is drink indeed—for what? For the pilgrim march. For the wilderness journey. For the long ascent to the City of God.

O wondrous Lamb! One said to David Dickson on his deathbed, “What are you doing, brother?” He answered, “I am taking all my bad deeds and all my good deeds, and throwing them into one bundle, and fleeing from both to Christ.” It is what I would do.

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