
The boy Moses, prince of Egypt, has great advantages growing up in the royal family. But as he is commencing his adulthood, he displays a virtue marred by a character flaw.
He knows, of course, that he is a Hebrew; his adoptive mother knew that from the beginning (Ex 2.6), and it seems unlikely that she would never have told him. Further, this assumption helps explain his actions in this episode.
He goes out to see “his brethren” (Ex 2.11), and he sees one of them being abused by an Egyptian taskmaster. His response is immediate: he kills the Egyptian (Ex 2.12).
That’s interesting, first because the taskmaster is likely physically fit and carrying some sort of weapon. Moses was thus probably highly fit and skilled in physical combat.
But he’s also not good at controlling his temper.
That may have been a consequence of his privileged upbringing, or it may have been a natural inclination. But given the consequences of his action–effectively expulsion from the royal family–it indicates a serious lack of self-control.
Now, Moses is writing this account; it is genuinely an autobiography, a retrospective. As he writes, he knows how his life is going to play out, particularly in the ways God is going to work with him. By the fourth of the five books that make up this story, Moses is going to be identified as “very meek, above all the men which were upon the face of the earth” (Num 12.3). Now, there’s an active discussion about whether Moses himself wrote this sentence, or it was added by a later editor, but that’s beside the point. Meekness is self-control; and this man, who started out by murdering an Egyptian in anger, is eventually going to be very different. God will do that, and he will do it through hard, hard times (Ro 5.3-5).
We begin by anticipating the end.
What’s next? Well, his rage brings consequences. Despite his care to ensure that there were no witnesses (Ex 2.12), there were, and he finds that out immediately. The very next day an Israelite makes it clear that he knows about the murder (Ex 2.14). Either he saw it happen, or word has gotten around. It’s easy to imagine that the Israelites, deep in hard bondage, would spread the story of an apparent defender, particularly a highly placed one.
Pharaoh seeks to kill Moses (Ex 2.15). That seems puzzling, given Moses’ family standing; wouldn’t he be protected from the consequences of killing a mere functionary? We could speculate, but the upshot is that he has to run for his life (Ex 2.15).
He runs to Midian. This area is in what is now extreme northwest Saudi Arabia, just beyond the Sinai Peninsula and the Gulf of Aqaba. It’s generally desert, badlands, a reasonably nearby place to disappear into.
There are people there, but the environment means that they’ll probably be bedouins, caring for sheep and goats, which can find food in the most desolate places, and moving them as necessary to keep body and soul together.
But Moses comes across a family that has settled down by a well (Ex 2.15-16): once you find water in a place like that, you tend to stick around. This family consists of seven sisters who are doing the hard work of watering the flock from the well. Moses, the man who had just recently killed an Egyptian for abusing workers, now sees competing shepherds harassing these women, making their task even more diffcult.
By nature he’s a deliverer. He steps up (Ex 2.17).
The girls head home early because of Moses’ help, and Dad asks how they finished so quickly (Ex 2.18). They tell him the story (Ex 2.19), and he asks why they let their deliverer get away (Ex 2.20).
In our culture we find humor in this; a father of seven daughters rebukes them for letting a chivalrous man escape their clutches.
I think that’s eisegesis, reading our culture into a very different one.
The Middle East was then, and is even today, a place where hospitality is expected and aggressively practiced. If this man is a stranger–not from around here–then he needs food and shelter. Dad thinks, “We shouldn’t have let him go without offering him what he needs.”
So Dad, whose name is Reuel, not only offers him the needs of the day but invites him for a longer stay (Ex 2.21). Sure, Moses eventually marries his daughter Zipporah, but that seems a natural consequence rather than a manipulated outcome.
They have a son and name him Gershom (“a foreigner there”).
This former prince, now a shepherd in the family business of his in-laws, is about to embark on the career of a lifetime.
Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash
