It’s April 8th. This April is unlike any April I’ve ever experienced. I didn’t step out of the house today, not even to go to work. When I was last out of the house a few days ago, there were cars on the road, but zero traffic. No traffic in Southern California. Haven’t seen that in decades. I never heard of PPE until a few weeks ago. The news is Coronavirus 24-7 so, it’s better to leave the TV off. Death counts and infection rates in any corner of the world slow drips sadness into any heart. This is not the world that I’m used to.

But somethings don’t change. Today is the start of Passover. Jewish families around the globe remember how their ancestors survived the last of the ten plaques of judgment upon the land of Egypt around 3500 years ago. At the very first Passover, to spare the first-born in the family, the Jewish ancestors were instructed to take a one-year old lamb from the flock, slaughter it, and take some of it’s blood and paint it on their door post. That lamb was supposed to be without any blemishes, roasted whole on a spit, eaten with bitter herbs and unleavened bread while the people were to be dressed for a journey. On the next day, from the nourishment of this meal, they were to embark on a mass exodus out of Egypt in haste. During the night, this last plague resulted in the death of the first-born in the house. In every house except the houses where the blood of that lamb had been applied to the door post, there was a casualty of the plague. The first-born was found dead in the morning. Death passed over the blood-stained homes and the first-born males were all spared within the houses of the people of Israel who believed in God’s instruction. Even at the very time this occurred, the people of Israel were instructed to celebrate this occasion every year. Over 3000 years later, Jewish families still celebrate this historical and miraculous event that happened to their forefathers. They still memorialize how the blood of the spotless lamb allowed the first-born to live as the plague passed-over their blood-stained homes.