Free The Priest: Aaron by Francine Rivers

Father.”
    Taking up the bowl, Aaron dipped sprigs of hyssop into the blood and painted the door lintel of his house. He dipped again and again until the top of the doorway was stained red, and then he began to do the same on the doorposts on either side of the entrance into his home. All over Goshen and into the city, each Hebrew family was doing the same. Egyptian neighbors watched, confused and disgusted, whispering.
    “They threw away all the yeast in their houses yesterday.”
    “And now they’re painting their doorframes with blood!”
    “What does it all mean?”
    Some had come to Aaron and asked what they could do to be grafted in among the Hebrews. “Circumcise every male in your household, and then you may be like one born among us.”
    Only a few took his words seriously and went through with it. Afraid for their lives, they moved their families in among the dwellings of the Hebrews, and listened to whatever Aaron and Moses had to say to the people.
    Aaron thought of what this night would hold for the rest of Egypt. In the beginning, he had wanted revenge. He had savored the thought of Egyptians suffering. Now he was filled with pity for those who still foolishly clung to their idols and bowed down before their empty gods. He longed to be away from this land of desolation. Finishing his task, he entered the house and closed the door securely. Piled in one corner were objects and jewelry of silver and gold that Miriam and his sons had collected from their Egyptian neighbors. All his life, Aaron had scratched out a meager living from the soil and his small flock of sheep and goats, and now his family had silver and gold to fill sacks! God had made the Egyptians look on Aaron and Moses and all the Hebrews with favor, and they had given whatever was asked for, even unto their wealth. Without question, the Egyptians had given up things they had prized only days before, hoping they could buy mercy from the Hebrew God.
    God’s mercy was not for sale. Nor could it be earned.
    On such a night as this, gold and silver did not matter, even to Aaron, who had once thought wealth could bring him solace and salvation from taskmasters and tyrants. Whatever he had done in the name of the Lord in the past did not count on this night. Had the Egyptians offered everything they owned to their gods tonight, they could not buy the lives of their firstborn sons. Had they smashed their idols, it would not have been enough. Pharaoh had brought this night upon Egypt, his pride the people’s bane.
    God, who established the heavens, set the price for life, and it was the blood of the lamb. The Angel of the Lord was coming, and he would pass over every house that had its lintels and doorposts painted with the lamb’s blood. The blood was a sign that those inside the house believed in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, believed enough to obey His command and trust His word. Only faith in the one true God would save them.
    Aaron looked at his firstborn son, Nadab, as he sat at the table with his brothers. Abihu sat alone, deep in thought, while Ithamar and Eleazar sat with their wives and small children. Little Phinehas turned the spitted lamb over the fire. When he tired, another took his place.
    “Grandfather—” Phinehas slipped onto the bench beside Aaron—“what does this night mean?”
    Aaron put his arm around the boy and looked at his sons, their wives, and the small children. “It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord. The Lord will come tonight at midnight and see the blood of the lamb on our door and pass over us. We will be spared, but the Lord will strike down the firstborn sons of the Egyptians. From the firstborn of Pharaoh who sits on the throne, to the firstborn of the prisoner who is in the dungeon, to the firstborn of all the livestock as well.”
    The only sound in the house was the crackling fire and the pop and hiss of fat as it dropped onto the hot coals. Miriam ground wheat and barley to make bread without