Part 1: Youth | Part 2: Exile | Part 3: Call | Part 4: Confrontation

God’s confrontation with, and defeat of the gods of, Pharaoh is now complete. The Sun-god Ra has been darkened, and the darkness of death hangs over every Egyptian house, including Pharaoh’s.

It’s time for God’s people, Israel, to be delivered from slavery and into their own land, with their own vines and their own fig trees.

God’s promises are so sure that he begins, not by delivering them, but by giving them a holiday by which to commemorate that deliverance–before it happens. And they will continue to commemorate it to this very day (Ex 12.42).

It’s springtime. God designates this month, Nisan, as the first month of their religious year (Ex 12.2). It will embrace a day, in the middle of the month, designed to remind Israel forever of what’s about to happen. Each family will select a perfect lamb–poor people can select a less expensive animal–and inspect it for a time to guarantee its perfection. Then they will sacrifice it and scatter its blood on their doorframes (Ex 12.7) as a symbol of vicarious death and redemption. And they will gather as family and eat the lamb together, with “bitter herbs” (Ex 12.8)–today that’s horseradish–as a symbol of suffering accompanied by provision.

They eat with their traveling clothes on (Ex 12.11) to symbolize the fact that they’re leaving; perhaps that fact is also why they burn whatever they can’t eat (Ex 12.10).

This night the angel of the Lord–I believe the preincarnate Christ–will pass through Egypt, in the middle of the night in the middle of this month, to kill the firstborn of every house–except those with the lamb’s blood on their doorframes. He will pass over those (Ex 12.13).

In the years to come, this special day will follow a week of anticipation, during which they will eat only unleavened bread, another symbol of haste (Ex 12.15): no time to let the dough rise. There will be two days of no work, to commemorate the ending of the hard labor of slavery (Ex 12.16).

And so it is done (Ex 12.28-30).

Pharaoh, ever vacillating, orders Moses and his people out of the country (Ex 12.31). They gather what possessions they can carry, along with riches surprisingly bestowed on them by their Egyptian neighbors (Ex 12.35-36), and they head east, toward the Red Sea. And the presence of God, in the form of a hovering glorious light, goes with them (Ex 13.21-22).

A word about that light. I’m of the opinion that it was the same manifestation all the time; in the daytime the bright light looked like a cloud, while in the darkness of night it looked like fire. The cloud would obscure vision; people couldn’t see through it to the other side. So it’s described as “darkness” (Ex 14.20), meaning zero visibility. In the Jewish mind, heavy fog is darkness because it obscures vision. We would call fog bright, not dark.

Pharaoh, the ever-vacillating one, changes his mind yet again (Ex 14.5); deliverance is not yet complete. The Egyptian army pursues the Israelite pilgrims (Ex 14.7-9). The Israelites, seeing the pursuing army, turn on Moses, questioning his judgment (Ex 14.10-12). Pharaoh isn’t the only one who vacillates–and this won’t be the last time.

God tells Moses what to do, and Moses, in faith, believes the impossible (Ex 14.15-18). The sea parts, and Moses leads Israel into the valley between the walls of water. Israel, too, has faith, though inconsistently. Once Israel’s through, and Pharaoh’s army is pursuing them, Moses recalls the waters, and the army is destroyed (Ex 14.27-28).

Finally, deliverance.

There’s a story on social media about the alleged discovery of chariot wheels at the bottom of the Red Sea. It bears every evidence of being bogus; the people and institutions named in the account do not match what it says about them. God’s people don’t need such evidence, though God does occasionally give it.

This is worth celebrating. Moses, the poet, leads Israel in a song of celebration (Ex 15.1-19), as does his older sister, Miriam (Ex 15.20-21).

Thus climaxes the deliverance of Israel from Egypt, closing the third phase of Moses’ life. All of this, though, is just prologue to what’s just around the corner. God has demonstrated his irresistible power and faithfulness to his people in a way that is still celebrated by Israelites around the world today. Moses’ flock of Israelites will need that assurance as the proceed.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Part 1: Youth | Part 2: Exile | Part 3: Call

God has overcome all of Moses’ many excuses. It’s time now for the confrontation, the first stage of Moses’ public ministry. God describes his coming confrontation with Pharaoh, the most powerful ruler in the world, and Pharaoh’s consequent resistance (Ex 4.21-23).

We all know the story of the plagues. Since this is a theological biography, I’m not going to work through the details; I’d like to focus on two items of particular theological significance.

First, the plagues constitute a visible attack on, and defeat of, the many gods of Egypt. The first, turning the Nile into a source of death rather than life, is probably the most obvious. Several others are attacks on the fertility gods, destroying crops in various ways. The next to last, darkness, directly confronts Ra, the sun god, for whom the several Ramses (“drawn out from Ra”) are named. And the last plague, of course, is a direct attack on Pharaoh himself, and the next Pharaoh, who is cut off even before he can accede to the throne.

This God is far superior to all the gods of Egypt. Pharaoh should recognize that he is powerless before a God that he does not know.

The second key theological idea is how Pharaoh responds to all this. The logical response would be humble repentance and recognition of the true God. But autocrats typically can’t find humility and confession in their hearts, no matter how deep they search. Their reflex is to double down, and eventually, when they recognize their defeat, to bluster.

And that raises the issue of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart.

Soon after God’s conversation with Moses at the burning bush, he predicts how this will turn out (Ex 4.21). Pharaoh will not be cooperative. And, God says, “I will harden his heart.” He says this again later (Ex 7.3), and then he does it (Ex 7.13) and announces that it is done (Ex 7.14).

Is God being unfair to poor old Pharaoh, hardening his heart from the outside, without giving him a chance to show his unmanipulated thoughts?

Not at all.

God, unlike the River or the Sun, knows all things, and he knows whom he’s dealing with. Pharaoh is powerful and proud, and he has defeated the gods of every people he’s attacked. He was never going to listen to the God of these slaves, even from the beginning; he has already demonstrated that (Ex 5.1-2). And sure enough, throughout the series of plagues, he hardens his own heart repeatedly (Ex 8.15, 32; 9.34). This is who he is and who he chooses to be.

So God gives him what he wants. Like a martial artist or a chess (infinitely) grand master, he uses this opponent’s moves against him, continuing to harden his heart for him throughout the process (Ex 9.12; 10.1, 20, 27; 11.10) and even after the plagues are over (Ex 14.4, 8, 17).

Of course the omnipotent God could be a bully, if that were consistent with his nature.

But it’s not. And he doesn’t need to be a bully; he accomplishes his perfect will perfectly justly and even graciously, freely giving Pharaoh the breath he uses to curse this unfamiliar God and allowing him to act in feckless opposition to him.

God keeps his promises; he will deliver his people from slavery and restore them to the Land of Promise.

He is just, even with his enemies, and he is good.

Next time: deliverance.

Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

Part 1: Youth | Part 2: Exile

Moses is now 80 years old, or approaching that age (Ex 7.7).

Wow. What has happened during all that time?

Doesn’t matter. Moses, narrating his own story, has chosen to cover the first two-thirds of his life in just one chapter, and not all of the chapter at that. But now our narrative slows dramatically.

This phase starts with God’s call of Moses into his service. Chapter 2 ends with a paragraph describing God in very human terms: a new Pharaoh initiates bondage for the Israelites (Ex 2.23); God hears their cry and remembers his covenant with Abraham (Ex 2.24); and he notices and is moved in response (Ex 2.25).

Chapter 3 begins with God acting on what he has seen; he seeks out Moses, who is now well settled in to the family business (Ex 3.1). We learn that Reuel, his father-in-law, has another name, Jethro–and that he is a priest. Given his later interactions with Moses, I’m inclined to think he a priest of the true God, as Melchizedek was in Abraham’s time. With Jethro, as with Melchizedek, we don’t know how that came to be. By some sort of revelation, certainly.

Moses is tending the flock on “the back side of the desert” (Ex 3.1 KJV). Modern readers think this means that he was way out in the boonies. He certainly was, but that’s not what the phrase means. Biblical directions face east, where the sun rises; north is on the left, south is on the right, east is in front, and west is behind. So the “back side” would be the west side–which is right where Midian is. So there’s no new information here.

Now, at Horeb, the angel of God appears to him. This is Mount Sinai, where the Mosaic Covenant will later be executed (Ex 3.12). The traditional site of Sinai is on the Sinai Peninsula. This means that Moses traveled a ways with the flock. There are some who believe that Sinai was in Midian; there are evidences to make that attractive, but it does seem odd that Mount Sinai wouldn’t be on the peninsula for which it’s named. I remain steadfastly uncommitted.

The angel appears in an unusual way: as fire in a bush, fire that is not consuming its fuel (Ex 3.2). As Moses approaches, God himself speaks from the bush (Ex 3.4). Is this angel (“messenger”) of God also God? That’s a big question, but I believe “the angel of YHWH” is a preincarnate embodiment of the Son.

And so he speaks.

His first statement identifies him and calls Moses to worship (Ex 3.5). Then, as further self-identification, he states that he is the God of Abraham’s Covenant (Ex 3.6). God tells Moses his name: “I am that I am” (Ex 3.14). The Hebrew verb “I am” is “ehyeh.” The verb “he is” is “yehyeh.” Changing the third letter in that latter verb yields YHWH, the personal name of God, which has been used repeatedly in Moses’ account since Genesis 2.4. In fact, Moses’ mother’s name, J[eh]ochebed, is based on that name. This is the covenant name, the personal name. It was as YHWH that God promised Abraham the Land. And now it is YHWH who will fulfill that promise.

Moses can’t possibly have missed that connection, either at the time or (perhaps) decades later when he wrote the Torah.

After identification comes the call to mission. It’s time to make the Promised Land Israel’s home (Ex 3.8). Now, in response to their cries and his investigation (Ex 3.9), he is appointing Moses to be his agent of deliverance (Ex 3.10).

Moses’ response may seem puzzling. He grew up in Pharaoh’s household; he knows the culture intimately (Ac 7.22). But then, that was 40 years ago, and we all feel distant from situations we left that long ago. At best, he’s rusty, and there may well now be social and cultural changes that he’s unfamiliar with. Further, if this is the same Pharaoh, they did not part on good terms, and if it’s a later one, they might not even be acquainted. And over the past 40 years, he’s been a shepherd, not a court functionary.

So he resists. Repeatedly.

“I’m nobody.” “I’ll be with you” (Ex 3.11-12).

“The Israelites don’t know me.” “Tell them you’re my agent, and they will hear you. And I guarantee your success” (Ex 3.13-22).

“They won’t either listen to me!” “I’ll empower you in ways that they will find convincing” (Ex 4.1-9).

“I’m a lousy public speaker.” “I can take care of that” (Ex 4.10-12).

“Send somebody else.” “I’ll let Aaron be your spokesman. Now stop this foolishness, and let’s get busy” (Ex 4.13-17).

And off he goes (Ex 4.18-23).

Next time: confrontation.

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Part 1: Youth

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