The Passover Feast

: Hebrew Heroes

Very different was the celebration of the Feast of Unleavened Bread in

the days of Antiochus Epiphanes from what it had been in the palmy

times when the children of Israel were swayed by their own native

kings. There was now no mighty gathering together of the people from

Dan to Beersheba; herdsmen driving their lowing cattle, shepherds

leading their bleating flocks from the slopes of Carmel, and the

pastures beneath he snow-capt heights of Lebanon. Fishermen left not

their nets by the shores of the inland lakes, nor their boats drawn up

on the coast by the sea, to go up, as their fathers had gone, to

worship the Lord in Zion. There were no pilgrims from Sharon's plains

or the mountains of Gilead. Jerusalem was not crowded with joyful

worshippers, and her streets made almost impassable by the droves and

flocks collected for sacrifice, as when Josiah held his

never-to-be-forgotten Passover Feast. There were no loud bursts of

joyful music, as when the singers, the sons of Asaph, ranged in their

appointed places, led the chorus of glad thanksgiving. Groups of

Hebrews, by twos and threes, stealthily made their way, as if bound on

some secret and dangerous errand, to the few houses in which the owners

were bold enough or pious enough to prepare the Paschal feast.



Amongst these dwellings was that of the elder Salathiel, a man who, in

despite of threatened persecution, still dared to worship God according

to the law as given through Moses. In an upper room in his house all

was set ready for the celebration of the feast, in order as seemly as

circumstances would permit. The Paschal lamb had been roasted whole in

a circular pit in the ground; it had been roasted transfixed on two

spits thrust through it, one lengthwise and one transversely, so as to

form a cross. The wild and bitter herbs, with which it was to be

eaten, had been carefully washed and prepared. On the table had been

placed plates containing unleavened bread, and four cups filled with

red wine mingled with water.



There had been difficulty in gathering together on this occasion, in

the house of Salathiel, even the ten individuals that formed the

smallest number deemed by the Hebrews sufficient for the due

celebration of the feast. Three of the persons present were females,

two of them belonging to Salathiel's own family. The third was Zarah,

who, closely shrouded in her large linen veil, came under the escort of

Abishai her uncle. The guests arrived late, having had to change their

course more than once, from the suspicion that they were dogged by

Syrian spies.



Greetings, in that upper chamber, were interchanged in low tones;

whispered conversation was held as to the recent events, the tidings of

which had thrilled like an electric shock through the heart of

Jerusalem. The victories of Judas Maccabeus were in every mind and on

every tongue. Glad prophecies were circulated amongst the guests that

the next Passover would not be held in secret, and kept with maimed

rites like the present; but that ere the circling year brought round

the holy season again, the sanctuary would be cleansed, the city free,

and that white-robed priests and Levites would gather together in the

open face of day, where the smoke of sacrifice should rise from the

altar of God's Temple.



Zarah was the most silent and sad of those who met in the house of

Salathiel. Many thoughts were flowing through her mind, which she

would not have dared to put into words.



"Is it sinful to desire that the blessings of the covenant were not so

exclusive?" Thus mused the young Hebrew maid. "Is it sinful to wish

that the wall of partition could be broken down, and that Jews and

Gentiles, descended from one common Father, and created by one merciful

God, could meet to break bread and drink wine in loving communion

together? And, if my mother Hadassah reads Scripture aright, may not

such a time be approaching? Precious and goodly is the golden

seven-branched candlestick of the Temple; but is not the Sun of

Righteousness to arise with healing on His wings (Mal. iv. 2), and will

the candlestick then be needed? The candles illumine but one chosen

spot; the sun shines from the east to the west, the glory and light of

the world! Can God care only for the children of Abraham? Lycidas has

told us of far-distant isles in the West, where the poor savages are

sunk in darkest idolatry, where they actually offer human sacrifices to

their huge wicker-idols. Yet might not God in His loving-kindness have

mercy even on such wretches as these? Would it be quite impossible

that Britons should receive the light of His Word, even as they receive

the light of His sunshine? I would fain cling to this hope; I trust

that the hope is not presumptuous. And if even these savage islanders

be not quite beyond reach of the mercy of the Great Father, will not

that mercy embrace the Greeks, the brave, the noble, the gifted? But

my thoughts wander upon dangerous ground. Can there be salvation for

any that may not partake of the Paschal lamb? Is not exclusion from

this feast exclusion from pardoning grace? Oh that there could be a

Lamb whose blood could take away the sins of all the world--a Sacrifice

of such priceless worth, that not in Jerusalem alone, but through all

the earth, there might be forgiveness, and hope, and salvation for all

who in faith partake of its merits!"



The solemn feast now commenced. The bread was blessed by Salathiel,

broken, and then distributed around. The first cupful of wine was

silently shared; but when the second was passed around, the lesser

Hallel, being the 113th and 114th psalms, were chanted in low subdued

tones.



Suddenly, in the midst of a verse, every voice was silenced at once,

every head turned to listen. The clank of a weapon that had fallen on

the paved courtyard below, was to the startled assembly above what the

blood-hound's bay is to the deer.



"The Syrians have found us; we are betrayed!" ejaculated Abishai,

starting up and drawing his sword.



"Fly! fly!" was echoed from mouth to mouth. The apartment in which the

Hebrews were assembled had two doors--one communicating by a staircase

with the courtyard below, the other, on the opposite side of the room,

leading to the roof, which was near enough to other dwellings to afford

a tolerable chance of escape to those who should make their way over

them under cover of the dusk. It was partly on account of this

advantage presented by Salathiel's house that it had been chosen as the

scene of the Paschal Feast. The second door, through which escape

might thus be effected, had been prudently left wide open, and at the

first alarm there was a general rush made towards it.



Terror so often has the effect of confusing the mind, that the

impressions made by passing events, though painfully vivid in

colouring, are not distinct in their outlines. Zarah could have given

no clear account of the scene which followed, which was to her like a

horrible dream. The instinct to make her escape was strong; but as she

attempted to fly, the maiden's veil caught in something, she knew not

what--it was three or four seconds--they seemed as many hours--before

she could extricate it. Zarah heard thundering noises at the one door,

rushing sounds of flight at the other; then there was a bursting open

of the frail barrier which divided her from the enemy, and Zarah felt

rather than saw that the place was filled with soldiers! One sight was

indelibly stamped on her brain--it was that of Abishai all streaming

with blood, his eyes glaring and glazed, his teeth clenched, as he

hissed out the word "apostate!" in the last pangs of death. Zarah knew

that it was death.



Then rude hands were laid on herself; and the terrified girl felt as

the gazelle feels under the claws of the tiger! She was too much

alarmed to have breath even to utter a scream.



"Hold! harm not the girl!" cried a voice which sounded to Zarah

strangely familiar, though she knew not where she could possibly have

heard it before; and she saw a tall officer in Syrian dress, the same

who has been introduced to the reader more than once under the name of

Pollux, who appeared to be in command of the assailing party. Zarah,

in her agony of terror, stretched out her hands for protection to one

in whose features, even at that moment, she recognized the Hebrew type.

But Zarah could not appeal for mercy save by that supplicating gesture;

horror so overpowered her senses that she swooned away; and had the

steel then done its cruel work, she would have felt no pain. But the

command of Antiochus had been rather to seize than to slay; and the

soldiers, by the order of Pollux, carried off as their only prisoner a

senseless maiden, leaving the dead body of Abishai on the floor dyed

with his blood.