Allan Chesswas
Today is the first day of Lent, and over the next 47 days until Easter Sunday I am going to be reading all of the books of the Apostle John for my daily bible readings.
The reading plan is copied below, and a pdf file is available by clicking here, if you would like to partake.
In preparation for this year’s advent season I have designed a 5-week course of daily readings with the theme of “Being ready for Jesus”.
2020 has been a year of the heathen raging, and the nations plotting in vain. There has been an increasing lack of regard shown by the rulers of the Earth towards the Lord and his people. But God is not mocked. The bible says that he laughs at the delusions of grandeur of the rulers of the earth. He has installed his king on Zion, the holy mountain.
“Therefore, you kings, be wise;
be warned, you rulers of the earth. “
Serve the Lord with fear
and celebrate his rule with trembling.
Kiss his son, or he will be angry
and your way will lead to your destruction,
for his wrath can flare up in a moment.
Blessed are all who take refuge in him.”
– Psalm 2:10 – 12
This 5-week course of advent readings is designed to draw our attention the true king of all the Earth. To draw our attention to the kingdom of his son, installed on Zion.
In the first week, the course begins with accounts from the early days of this kingdom centred on Zion – from it’s glory days under the rule of King Solomon. It relays the subsequent decline and judgment of this kingdom as a consequence of the failure of its rulers and its people to be faithful to God. And then, in Week 2, it walks with this people as they learn to be a repentant people, and follows the restoration of the kingdom that results from their faithfulness.
Weeks 2 and 3 draw attention to the promises of the prophets, of more times of turbulence, and of a coming King that would usher in a time of judgment and a time of peace, a time of unparallelled glory for God’s kingdom.
In Week 4 we meet this king against a backdrop of a time of great calamity and corruption. We are suprised by a King whose meekness and humility seems to contradict the promises of judgment, wrath and victory on the part of this Messiah and his people. And we come to terms with a Messiah who came to be a servant to all, and to give his life as a ransom for many, including ourselves if we are willing to be ransomed.
Finally, in Week 5, we consider this King that was killed, but rose to life again to be seated in Heaven at the Father’s right hand. We consider what it will look like in the Earth, and what it will mean for us, when he returns and those prophecies of judgment, wrath and victory are fulfilled.
We will be left knowing just what to expect. Knowing just how it is that God intends to wrap things up, what those times will look like, and what steps we ought to be take, to be found ready when Christ returns.
Being ready for Jesus:
5 weeks of Advent readings for Christmas 2020
Egypt is a mess. After two rounds of plagues – 6 plagues in total – the Egyptians have been tormented by a bloodied Nile river, a horde of frogs, an infestation of lice, and great swarms of flies. On top of that, a severe pestilence has left all of their livestock dead, and the Egyptians themselves have been subject to an epidemic of festering boils. The limits of the power of Pharaoh and the Egyptian gods have been exposed, to the point that his officials are saying that God is on Moses’ side, and Pharaoh himself is beginning to crack. Twice Pharaoh has relented and given the Israelites permission to leave – once with the plague of frogs, and once with the plague of flies. But both times he changed his mind and went back on his word, hardening his heart against the God of Israel. And we read that in the wake of the sixth plague, the plague of boils, the Lord himself hardens Pharaoh’s heart, and Pharaoh refuses to let the Israelites go.
And so the Lord says to Moses,
“Get up early in the morning, confront Pharaoh and say to him, ‘This is what the Lord, the God of the Hebrews, says: Let my people go, so that they may worship me, or this time I will send the full force of my plagues against you and against your officials and your people, so you may know that there is no one like me in all the earth. For by now I could have stretched out my hand and struck you and your people with a plague that would have wiped you off the earth. But I have raised you up for this very purpose, that I might show you my power and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth. You still set yourself against my people and will not let them go. Therefore, at this time tomorrow I will send the worst hailstorm that has ever fallen on Egypt, from the day it was founded till now. Give an order now to bring your livestock and everything you have in the field to a place of shelter, because the hail will fall on every person and animal that has not been brought in and is still out in the field, and they will die.’”
The text doesn’t mention Moses’ actual meeting with Pharaoh at the river. But Pharaoh has clearly refused and not heeded the warning – although we read that those Egyptian officials who had learned to fear the word of the Lord hurry to bring their slaves and their livestock inside. Having just lost all of their livestock in the 5th plague, these officials are anxious to ensure their new purchases don’t meet the same fate at the hands of the mighty God of Israel. And Moses stretches his hand toward the sky, and thunder crashes, lightning cracks, and the worst hailstorm that has ever fallen on Egypt comes over the land, beating down people and animals, and stripping every tree – but the land of Goshen is again spared.
Now, for the first time, we find Pharaoh speaking the language of repentance, and he says to Moses,
“This time I have sinned. The Lord is in the right, and I and my people are in the wrong. Pray to the Lord, for we have had enough thunder and hail. I will let you go; you don’t have to stay any longer.”
Moses replies that he will do as Pharaoh has asked. He tells him “The thunder will stop and there will be no more hail, so you may know that the earth is the Lord’s.” But he also challenges Pharaoh, saying “I know that you and your officials still do not fear the Lord God.” And he is proven right, for when he spreads his hands towards the Lord, and the rain hail and thunder stop, Pharaoh and his officials again harden their hearts, and refuse to let the Israelites go.
And so the Lord tells Moses to again return to Pharaoh, and he says to Moses,
“I have hardened his heart and the hearts of his officials so that I may perform these signs of mine among them that you may tell your children and grandchildren how I dealt harshly with the Egyptians and how I performed my signs among them, and that you may know that I am the Lord.”
So Moses and Aaron confront Pharaoh and warn him that if he refuses to let the Israelites go, the Lord will bring about a plague of locusts will cover the land and devour what little the Egyptians have left.
The Pharaoh’s officials are wary of further smiting, and say to Pharaoh, “How long will this man be a snare to us? Let the people go, so that they may worship the Lord their God. Do you not yet realize that Egypt is ruined?”
So Pharaoh says to Moses and Aaron, “Go, worship the Lord your God. But tell me who will be going.” Moses replies that they plan to go with their young and old, their sons and daughters, their flocks and their herds. And Pharaoh accuses them of being bent on evil, suggesting that if they weren’t then only the men would go, and he has Moses and Aaron driven from his presence.
And so Egypt is invaded by a plague of locusts, such as there has never been before, and never will be seen again. They cover the ground until it is black, and devour everything that is left after the hail – everything growing in the fields and the fruit on the trees. Nothing green remained on tree or plant in all the land of Egypt.
And so Pharaoh summons Moses and Aaron, and again using language of repentance, says, “I have sinned against the Lord your God and against you. Now forgive my sin once more and pray to the Lord your God to take this deadly plague away from me.”
So Moses leaves Pharaoh and prays to the Lord. But when relief came, “The Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he would not let the Israelites go.”
And so the Lord strikes Egypt with a ninth plague, a plague of darkness that covers all of Egypt for three days. No one could see anyone else or move about for three days. Yet all the Israelites had light in the places where they lived.
So Pharaoh summons Moses and tells him, “Go, worship the Lord. Even your women and children may go with you; only leave your flocks and herds behind.”
Moses insists that the Israelites must take their livestock, “not a hoof is to be left behind,” as “until we get there we will not know what we are to use to worship the Lord.”
But the Lord hardens Pharaoh’s heart and he refuses to let the Israelites go.
Pharaoh says to Moses, “Get out of my sight! Make sure you do not appear before me again! The day you see my face you will die.”
And Moses replies, “Just as you say. I will never appear before you again.”
In unleashing these powerful plagues upon Egypt, God has made it clear to the Egyptians that “there is no one like me in all the earth.” Even some of Pharaoh’s officials are learning to fear the God of Israel, as evidenced when they heed Moses’ warning and bring their livestock inside under cover. And the Pharaoh himself is so overwhelmed by the power of the Lord that even he begins to repent. He tells Moses after both the plague of hail, and the plague of locusts, that he has sinned, and he asks for forgiveness. Yet after his first attempt at repentance, when God answered Moses’ prayer and the hail and the thunder stopped, Pharaoh again hardens his heart as soon as he sees relief, and refuses to let the Israelites go. And then after Pharaoh’s second attempt at repentance, when God answered Moses’ prayer and the locusts were swept into the sea, the Lord himself hardens Pharaoh’s heart, and Pharaoh refuses to let the Israelites go. And again, after the plague of darkness, the Lord again hardens Pharaoh’s heart so that he will not let the Israelites go.
This language of the Lord himself hardening Pharaoh’s heart was introduced with Pharaoh’s response to the sixth plague. Pharaoh’s heart became hard in response to the first five plagues, but in these instances the text says only that it became hard, or that Pharaoh himself hardened his heart. With the sixth plague, however, things change – the Lord hardens Pharaoh’s heart.
The implication seems to be that if the Lord hadn’t hardened Pharaoh’s heart, he might have relented and let the Israelites go. But the Lord’s intention in his confrontation with Pharaoh and the gods of Egypt wasn’t simply to get the Israelites out of there, with a minimum of fuss and bother. His intent, rather, was that in doing so he would “send the full force of my plagues against you and against your officials and your people, so you may know that there is no one like me in all the earth.”
As Moses told Pharaoh, at any point the Lord could have “stretched out my hand and struck you and your people with a plague that would have wiped you off the earth.” But instead the Lord at first humbly tolerates Pharaoh’s resistance and negotiations for a time, and uses this to his own advantage. Pharaoh’s proud obstinacy allows the Lord the stage of the Egyptian courts and kingdom, in which he demonstrates his power for all of Egypt and Israel to see, “that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.” And when Pharaoh then looks like relenting before God has finished with him, God uses his own sovereign power to work directly on Pharaoh’s heart, and cause him to continue to defy God.
Now this idea of God directly overriding Pharaoh’s will in these moments disturbs us in our 21st century sensibilities. We esteem freedom and personal autonomy as ultimate goods in our society. We cringe at practices and institutions that rob people of their ability to control their own lives and actions. We hate slavery, and dictatorships, for example. We despise bosses who work us too hard. We reject traditional views of marriage, of the patriarchy, of monarchies. We demand that everyone should have an equal say, and be entitled to run their own lives. We are reticent even to attempt to persuade people to accept our opinion, or a proposed course of action, for fear we might be somehow manipulating people against their will. Given our sensitivity to exerting power over others in these ways, it is little wonder that we balk at the idea that God would directly harden Pharaoh’s heart so that he doesn’t even have the power or freedom to repent.
Yet the text gives us a perspective that can help us address this concern. The Lord says to Pharaoh, “by now I could have stretched out my hand and struck you and your people with a plague that would have wiped you off the earth.” The Lord was entitled to have done much worse to Pharaoh than to harden his heart in a moment, in order to display his power in the world. The Lord could have wiped Pharaoh off the earth completely. And he would have deserved it, in spite of being a human being made in God’s image and endowed with certain unalienable rights. Our rights are inalienable as far as our relationship with our fellow human beings is concerned. And it is clear that God prefers to honour human freedom and dignity as much as possible. But at the end of the day, when it comes to our standing before God, any freedom and dignity we have is not based on our own rights, or righteousness. Rather, the freedom and dignity we have in our standing before God is a gracious and merciful privilege.
The bible teaches us that our rightful position before God is ultimately to be as dead as a doornail. Given our every defiance of the knowledge of God, we are entitled to nothing else. This is the message of the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. As the Apostle Paul puts it in his letter to the Romans, “the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23). Every breath we take is a gift of mercy and grace from a forgiving God who is otherwise entitled to wipe us from the face of the Earth.
Pharaoh stood upon a lifetime of not only defying the knowledge of god, but of building a profile and an empire on the platform of the worship of false gods, propped up by the murder, enslavement and oppression of a people chosen and set apart by God himself. How much more was every breath he took a gift of mercy and grace of God. How much more appropriate was it that God would harden the heart of this evil man, for this purpose, “that I might show you my power and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.”
And yet even though Pharaoh deserved this hardening of heart, even though he deserved to be wiped from the face of the Earth, the Lord was careful not to directly harden Pharaoh’s heart until the seventh miracle, the sixth plague. Only after God had worked six miraculous signs to try to persuade Pharaoh to let the Israelites go, and Pharaoh had refused six times of his own volition, did God harden Pharaoh’s heart in order to demonstrate his power in such a way “that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.”
Paul, in his letter to the Romans, uses this example of the Lord hardening Pharaoh’s heart to illustrate the famous doctrine of justification by grace through faith. Paul discusses the concept of election – that is, the way in which God sets apart a people for himself. Paul is arguing against Jews who believe that to be a child of God one needs two qualifications: 1) descent from Abraham, and 2) close observation of every customary and ritual Jewish law. Paul argues, instead, that “not all who are descended from Israel are Israel.” He argues also that election “does not depend on human desire or effort, but on God’s mercy.” In doing so he quotes The Lord’s words to Moses in Exodus 33:19, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.”
Paul illustrates this second point regarding God’s sovereignty in his mercy with reference to the Lord’s hardening of Pharaoh’s heart (Exodus 9:17 – 18),
“For Scripture says to Pharaoh: “I raised you up for this very purpose, that I might display my power in you and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.” Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden.”
Paul anticipates the challenge that people pose, when faced with this doctrine:
“Then why does God still blame us? For who is able to resist his will?”
To which question he answers,
“What if God, although choosing to show his wrath and make his power known, bore with great patience the objects of his wrath—prepared for destruction? What if he did this to make the riches of his glory known to the objects of his mercy, whom he prepared in advance for glory—even us, whom he also called, not only from the Jews but also from the Gentiles?”
Doctrines such as justification by grace, election and predestination are among the most debated doctrines of the Christian faith. It is difficult to fathom just how it is that God seems to keep a balance between 1) honouring our freewill and judging us accordingly, 2) being a merciful and forgiving God, and 3) acting sovereignly to display his glory to the “objects of his mercy,” at the expense of the “objects of his wrath.” It is hard to comprehend, but clearly Paul believed that this encounter between God and Pharaoh is a good place to look for one who wants a better understanding of such things.
The Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart to create an epic showdown in which he displayed his mighty power before his chosen object of mercy, the nation of Israel. To achieve this, he “bore with great patience the object of his wrath” – Pharaoh. And a great deal of patience would have been required for a holy and glorious God to tolerate such dishonour, insolence and ignorance. For this dishonour, insolence and ignorance that was offered freely by Pharaoh according to his own will, well before the scripture begins to talk about God hardening his heart. And God knew exactly how all of this would pan out, he planned it to the last detail, knowing just how Pharaoh would react. Regularly throughout the account of this showdown in Exodus, we see God keeping Moses informed of what is about to happen.
Of the last five plagues, there is only one instance in which Pharaoh hardens his own heart – after the seventh plague, the plague of hail and fire. This was also the first plague that Pharaoh responded to with repentance, the first time he admitted that he had sinned, that “The Lord is in the right, and I and my people are in the wrong.” It is interesting that God doesn’t harden Pharaoh’s heart in the face of this first sign of repentance, though he had hardened his heart the plague before, and the plagues afterwards. This seems to be another hint at the graciousness of God. Though God could see into Pharaoh’s heart, and knew that this repentance was not genuine enough to be sustained, he allowed that to be manifested under Pharaoh’s own steam. It seems we can conclude from this that the Lord will not judge or condemn a man who is willing to take the initiative to repent and call on his name. But at the same time, we see the consequence of what will happen if we fail to be faithful to the windows of grace that God offers us.
Like Paul in his letter to the Romans, perhaps the author of the Book of Hebrews also has Pharaoh in mind, along with the religious authorities of his day who rejected the Messiah, when he says in Hebrew 10:26 – 31,
“If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God. Anyone who rejected the law of Moses died without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much more severely do you think someone deserves to be punished who has trampled the Son of God underfoot, who has treated as an unholy thing the blood of the covenant that sanctified them, and who has insulted the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” and again, “The Lord will judge his people.” It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.”
The Lord is patient with us. His preference is that none should perish, but that all should come to repentance (2 Peter 3;19). His patience and kindness towards us is intended to lead us to repentance (Romans 2:4). Let us not be like Pharaoh, showing contempt for God’s mercies, and for the signs of his work in the world and in our lives. Let us not store up wrath against ourselves for the day of God’s judgment because of stubbornness and an unrepentant heart. Let us not trample the Son of God under foot, like swine trampling pearls. Let us not insult and blaspheme the work of the Holy Spirit of God, and those that he leads into our lives. Let us not be among those for whom “no sacrifice for sins is left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God.”
Jesus says in Matthew 12:31 – 32,
“Every kind of sin and slander can be forgiven, but blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven. Anyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but anyone who speaks against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven, either in this age or in the age to come.”
Let us not be like Pharaoh, requiring a greater and greater sign before we are willing to submit ourselves to the will of God. Let us understand that he is trying to draw us gently, attracting us with his love and his patience. Through the message and account of the God who loved us so much that he sent his only begotten son, who was crucified but rose from the dead, whose death on the cross was for our sins, in our place. By the witness of those who know his love and bear his image in your world.
And never assume or conclude you are among the blasphemers of the Holy Spirit, for whom “no sacrifice for sins is left”. Jesus says, “No one is able to come to me unless the Father, the one having sent Me, draws him” (John 6:44). Paul observes in Romans 8:7, “the sinful mind is hostile to God. It does not submit to God’s law, nor can it do so.” If you are concerned you might have committed an unforgivable sin against the Holy Spirit, that is strong evidence that you haven’t. According to both Jesus and Paul, you wouldn’t have the ability to be concerned about your standing before God without the Holy Spirit being at work in your life (see William W Combs’ The Blasphemy Against the Holy Spirit for a good summary of the mind of the church on this). But if you feel that stirring in your spirit of concern about your standing before God, be careful to cultivate it, that you don’t find yourself among those whose consciences the bible describes as being “seared with a hot iron” (1 Timothy 4:2).
“So, as the Holy Spirit says: “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts as you did in the rebellion, during the time of testing in the wilderness. … See to it, brothers and sisters, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called “Today,” so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness. We have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original conviction firmly to the very end.” – Hebrews 3:7 – 8, 12 – 14
In Exodus 7 – 8 the great showdown between the God of Israel and the many gods of Egypt begins, and the Lord brings about plagues upon Egypt in order to show the Egyptians that he is the Lord. When Moses and Aaron go to Pharaoh, and Pharaoh asks them for a sign, Aaron throws his staff on the ground and it becomes a snake. The Egyptian magicians do the same, but Aaron’s staff devours their staffs. This sign isn’t enough for Pharaoh, his heart was hard, so the Lord turns the Nile to blood – the first plague. The Egyptian magicians also manage to turn water to blood, and Pharaoh remains unimpressed. So the Lord brings a second plague, a horde of frogs which cover the land of Egypt. Pharaoh seeks relief from the frogs from Moses and Aaron, and agrees to let the Israelites go, but when relief comes he goes back on his word. And so the Lord brings a third plague on the land of Egypt, a plague of gnats, or lice. And because they are on people and animals everywhere, the magicians say to Pharaoh, “This is the finger of God.” But Pharaoh’s heart remains hard, and he refuses to listen.
The Lord has shown that he is, indeed, the Lord. The Egyptian magicians have admitted as much, and can see that the Lord is on Moses’ side. But Pharaoh is no doubt alarmed at what his officials are saying, and in his pride cannot stand the thought of losing face so badly. The people of Egypt can see that the God of Moses is the Lord. And so can Pharaoh. But here the blinding power of human pride is on display, as Pharaoh refuses to humble himself. The Lord has shown in the plagues of blood, frogs and gnats/lice that he is the Lord. But the stubbornness of Pharaoh means another round of plagues is coming.
The Lord tells Moses,
“Get up early in the morning and confront Pharaoh as he goes to the river and say to him, ‘This is what the Lord says: Let my people go, so that they may worship me. If you do not let my people go, I will send swarms of flies on you and your officials, on your people and into your houses. The houses of the Egyptians will be full of flies; even the ground will be covered with them. But on that day I will deal differently with the land of Goshen, where my people live; no swarms of flies will be there, so that you will know that I, the Lord, am in this land. I will make a distinction between my people and your people. This sign will occur tomorrow.’”
The text doesn’t mention Moses’ actual meeting with Pharaph at the river. But Pharaoh has clearly refused and not heeded the warning, and a dense plague of flies pours into his palace and into the houses of his officials. All of the land of Egypt is ruined by the flies – except for the land of Goshen where the Israelites live, which the Lord had said he would spare from the plague. And so Pharaoh summons Moses and Aaron, and tells them to go and sacrifice to their God here, in Egypt. But Moses argues that they must take a 3-day journey outside of Egypt, because the sacrifices they offer to the Lord would be detestable to the Egyptians. And so Pharaoh concedes, and gives the Israelites permission to go and offer sacrifices, but tells Moses and Aaron that they must not go very far. So Moses prays for the plague of flies to leave, and they do. But Pharaoh goes back on his word again, “Pharaoh hardened his heart and would not let the people go.”
And so the Lord tells Moses to go again to Pharaoh to tell him to let the Israelites go, and to warn him that if he doesn’t, he will send a terrible plague on the livestock in Egypt. The Lord tells Moses to say to Pharaoh that he will again make a distinction between the Egyptians and the Israelites, in that no animal belonging to the Israelites will die. Again, the text doesn’t mention Moses’ actual visit, but again Pharaoh has refused and not heeded the warning. The following day, all of the livestock of the Egyptians die, but not one animal belonging to the Israelites dies. Pharaoh investigates the matter and sees that not one animal belonging to the Israelites has died. But again “his heart was unyielding and he would not let the people go.”
And so the Lord strikes Egypt with a sixth plague. He tells Moses and Aaron to take handfuls of soot from a furnace and toss it into the air in the presence of Pharaoh. He tells them it will become fine dust over the whole land of Egypt, and festering boils will break out on people and animals throughout the land. So Moses and Aaron do just as the Lord commanded them. Taking soot from a furnace, they toss it in the air before Pharaoh, and festering boils break out on people and animals. The magicians cannot stand before Moses because of the boils that are on them. The text specifies that the boils were on all the Egyptians, but doesn’t mention the Israelites. The inference is that just as the Israelites in the land of Goshen were spared from the fourth and fifth plagues, they were likewise spared from the plague of boils. But in spite of these signs, “The Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart and he would not listen to Moses and Aaron.”
With these devastating plagues, the Lord has demonstrated clearly that “I, the Lord, am in this land”. These plagues are not merely undiscriminating natural catastrophes. These acts of God that the Egyptians are suffering are not sweeping global acts of judgment, like the flood of Noah. They are acts of judgment clearly directed at the nation of Egypt, its people, and its Pharaoh. Moreover, it is not the “gods of Egypt” that are exacting these judgments. The sparing of Goshen from the swarms of flies, the sparing of the Israelite livestock down to the last animal, the sparing of the people of Israel from the plague of boils – all of this is evidence that it is the God of Israel who is at work, avenging the oppression of his people. It is evidence that the power and sovereignty of the God of Israel is as real here in Egypt, as it is in Canaan, Syria and Mesopotamia. It is evidence that the power and sovereignty of the God of Israel covers the whole Earth.
Pharaoh’s response to this second round of plagues illustrates just how stubborn the human heart can be. Pharaoh is an example of the lengths we will go to, the kickback we will endure, in clinging to our own righteousness rather than admitting we are wrong. It shows how unwilling we can be to have a change of heart and choose a better path.
Repentance can be a very bitter pill to swallow. First of all, it involves admitting that we were wrong. It involves admitting that we have thus far built our lives on faulty foundations. Admitting that the decisions about God that we’ve made thus far have been existentially and morally inferior to the decision we are being challenged to make. For many, making such an admission is just too hard. And for those who do make the admission, often it is too difficult to stick to. And, as the Book of Proverbs says, like a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool returns to his folly.
But what can make repentance tougher still, is that true repentance towards God will mean being willing to associate with, and to be identified with, the people of God. Pharaoh may have been in awe of the power of the God of Israel. But he would have been deeply shocked at what this second round of plagues revealed so clearly: That a group of people he’d always known as slaves were in fact the favoured nation of the Most High God. It was not unheard of for Egyptian Pharaohs to change their godly allegiance – Pharaoh Akhenaten being the most famous example. But, to change allegiance to the god of a nation that Egypt had possessed as slaves for a good 100 years or so, was not an option for such a proud nation. Not only were the Israelites slaves, but they were shepherds with flocks of sheep and goats, and herds of cattle. Farmers of livestock like this were considered filthy and detestable to the Egyptians.
We, too, can be like Pharaoh. God’s glory, his providences and his presence in our lives and the world around us may register with us. But we find it difficult to accept that this powerful and glorious God could possibly be on the side of the particular Christians that we are familiar with, who come in and out of our lives. Mahatma Ghandi famously opined that he had great admiration for Jesus, but not for Christians. And this has become something of a famous catch-cry among those today who say they are “spiritual but not religious,” and those who say they follow Jesus but reject traditional church institutions and authorities. However, there are two major mistakes people usually make when they follow this logic.
Firstly, if we feel entitled to reject Christians because they don’t look perfectly like Jesus, and at the same time say that we love and admire this Jesus, then we have completely misunderstood Jesus, and the Heavenly Father who he reveals. On one hand it is fair to challenge those who profess Christianity, to make sure that their walk matches their talk, and this may be what Mahatma Ghandi was trying to do with his pointed comments. But, on the other hand, it is impossible to faithfully follow the God of Jesus Christ, and at the same time reject his project of the church because you haven’t yet found the perfect church, or the perfect Christian. Consider Moses, for example. As a member of Pharaoh’s court, he spent his first 40 years as part of the establishment that exploited the Israelites as slaves. And when he finally grew a conscience about it, he acted so rashly he killed a man, becoming a murderer – and then he ran away! Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were riddled with the sinful prejudices of their times. Even King David, the man after God’s own heart, committed adultery and murder.
Now it is important to note that, unlike the Old Testament patriarchs and prophets, Christians have the power to lead lives that are genuinely holy, because of the gift of the Holy Spirit that was given us after Jesus ascended to God the Father. Jesus told his disciples, “For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:20. And he meant it. His expectation is that our righteousness will literally be greater than that of Noah, Moses, Samuel, Hosea, Jeremiah, John the Baptist. That is why he said, “Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” (Matthew 11:11). This is why Paul, in discussing the standard expected of bishops and deacons, said that they are to be “above reproach” (1 Timothy 3:2).
So it is right to have a high expectation of Christian leaders. And it is right to want to distance ourselves from leaders who do not meet these standards. A Christian leader doesn’t need to be perfect. But perfection should certainly be their aim. They should be quick to admit and correct any fault. So much so that, as was the case for Samuel, and of course for Jesus, nobody can bring a bad word against them that sticks to them. However, we are not entitled to excuse ourselves from identifying as a Christian, or identifying with Christians, because we are offended at the hypocrisy and sinfulness we find among the “people of God”. Jesus chose disciples riddled with faults. Peter was rash and duplicitous. John and James were impatient and judgmental. All of them except John abandoned Jesus when he went to the cross. And even when when they were filled with the Holy Spirit, these apostles still had their faults. It took years, even decades, for many of them to be willing to welcome Gentile Christians who didn’t observe all of the customary Jews into their fellowship. Even though Jesus had mentioned that the “time of the Gentiles” was coming. And even though Peter himself had been given a direct revelation from God that the Gentiles were to be accepted for who they were.
Charles Spurgeon famously said,
“If I had never joined a church till I had found one that was perfect, I should never have joined one at all; and the moment I did join it, if I had found one, I should have spoiled it, for it would not have been a perfect church after I had become a member of it.”
The first mistake people often make, in saying they love Christ but not Christians, is that they fail to appreciate that the same grace God extended to them, is intended for Christians of all shapes and sizes, all stripes and colours – people that are often quite unlike them. People with different tastes and manners. People with different cultural backgrounds. People with very different customs and occupations. God has designed church fellowship – imperfect people from divergent backgrounds attempting to perfectly love and honour each other with a nagging persistence – as the furnace in which he moulds us into becoming as holy and as loving as Christ.
The second mistake people often make is to be selective in their reading of what God is like, and what Jesus is like, so that their Jesus looks more like their own version of a socially acceptable or politically correct Messiah than he looks like the historical Jesus. And when Christians express attitudes or behaviours that are contrary to this doctored up version of Jesus, then such a person will accuse those Christians of acting out of step with their doctored up Jesus. This is a mistake often made by people whose political convictions are as strong as their religious convictions.
Some focus so much on the high moral standard Jesus asked of people, that they fail to see how gracious he was to people when they failed. They focus so much on Jesus’ teachings to honour and respect worldly authorities, that they miss that this was never meant to exclude criticism and challenge when those authorities become oppressive. Such people will often impose a tighter grid of moral restrictions and limitations on their expectation of Christians than Jesus ever did, especially in areas such as food, drink, merriment, sexuality, marital fidelity, prudent financial policy and involvement with Non-Christians. Such people feel that they can reject Christians because if they were really Christian, they’d have much more honourable, respectable and peaceful lives.
Other people focus so much on the level of activism and commitment to evangelism, or to helping the poor, which Jesus required of people, that they fail to understand that Jesus also taught that one should be humble in modest in undertaking their good works, and “not let their right hand know what their left hand is doing”. Such people often reinterpret Jesus’ teachings to make out that his moral and ethical expectations in areas such as food, drink, merriment, sexuality, marital fidelity, prudent financial policy and involvement with Non-Christians, were lower than they really were. What is more important to these people is whether a person gets actively involved in evangelism of activism. Such people feel that they can reject Christians because if they were really Christian, they wouldn’t be so uptight about personal piety, and they’d show much more overt concern for evangelism, and for justice for poor and the oppressed.
The Irish Jesuit priest George Tyrrell once said of the quintessential modernist Jesus scholar, Adolf von Harnack, who rejected the idea that Jesus’ miracles really happened,
“The Christ that Harnack sees, looking back through nineteen centuries of Catholic darkness, is only the reflection of a Liberal Protestant face, seen at the bottom of a deep well.”
When the Christian pretends to accept Jesus, but rejects his church, he does the same. The bible describes God’s relationship with his people – with Israel, and with the church – in the same terms as the relationship of a man to his wife. The church is the bride of Christ. Saying that I love Jesus, but not the church, is like saying to a good friend, “I love you, but I hate your wife.”
Pharaoh might have been able to see that the God of Israel was indeed more powerful than the so-called gods of Egypt. As the man on the throne of Egypt, supposed to be the personal presence of these great gods, he would have been all too familiar with the fakeness of the gods he pretended to represent. Assenting intellectually to the reality and the logic of the sovereignty of the Israelite God in Egypt was not Pharaoh’s problem – he could comprehend this very clearly, through the plagues. Pharaoh’s problem was that, if he accepted this publicly, he would risk losing all of the glory he had amassed for himself on a platform built on false pretences. He would lose his Israelite slaves, the means by which he’d have been hoping to carry on the tradition of great and glorious building projects of his dynasty. If he accepted publicly that the God of Israel was superior to the gods of Egypt, his reputation and that of his gods would be dashed to pieces – and his power, his kingdom and his dynasty as well. He would have to place himself at the mercy of a people, who though they were indeed gods people, were a people despised by his fellow Egyptians. Humbling himself before such a people would be an act too intolerable for a man of such pomp and circumstance.
Like Pharaoh, we cannot repent and put faith in Christ without admitting that to until we did we were in the wrong, both intellectually and morally. If we have made an idol of our own pride, and our own righteousness (whether embracing our goodness or our wickedness), and built our lives around this belief – then we might consider the shame of admitting our folly to be too much for us. And this will be especially the case if our reputation matters to us as much as our pride in our own righteousness. Because confessing faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God revealed to us in Jesus Christ, means identifying with Jews and Christians. It means honouring them as brothers and sisters in the first family in the universe, and that will often mean rejection by people we had considered to be friends and family.
The United States Declaration of Independence got it right in saying “…all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights.” We were all created equally, and therefore we are treated equally inasmuch as we all have to face the consequences of our sins. We are treated equally in that God will grant rest to whoever comes to him (Matthew 11:28), he will answer any who ask of him (Matthew 7:8). Whoever believes in him will not perish, but have eternal life (John 3:16). He is patient towards us, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9). God treats us equally in that his offer of salvation and his invitation is extended to us all. But as some begin to respond with faith, and to reciprocate God’s love, these people God begins to treat more equally than others, so to speak.
In Hebrews 11, the biblical hall of fame, we find a list of people who we know from the biblical text that God was close to, people God favoured, people that warmed God’s heart. These people were privy to a relationship of blessing that others were not, and the reason they entered into this privileged position is because they were men and women of faith. This is why Hebrews 11:6 asserts that “without faith it is impossible to please God.” In this hall of fame are drunkards, adulterers, murderers, prostitutes and warmongerers. But what they all had in common was that, in spite of their mistakes and their flaws, they trusted the God who revealed himself to them. They trusted that this God who had promised to make Abram into a great nation, who led Israel out of slavery and into the Promised Land, was a God who had demonstrated his power in the world, and had a faithful record of being true to the promises he made. And so God rewarded their faithfulness with blessing. But there are two sides to this coin. The same people, when they disobeyed God and failed to put their faith in him, then had to face curses and discipline for disobedience that other nations were not subject to.
It is inescapable that God has set apart a people for himself. It is inescapable that this people have a special bond through their knowledge of God and his love. It is inescapable that the depth of this love means that the bonds they share make them the world’s tightest family – though a family born of the spirit, not born of blood and water. If we reject the requirement to identify with Christians and associate with Christians, and at the same time say that we love and admire this Jesus, then we have completely misunderstood Jesus, and the Heavenly Father who he reveals. This is why Paul instructs the Galatians, “Let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers” (Galatians 6:10). This is why John says, “Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen” (1 John 4:20).
Scripture promises, “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). It is by this process of faithful drawing that we enter into the people of God and become blessed and disciplined by his word. But the opposite also appears to be true. There are limits to God’s patience, as the people at the time of Noah’s food discovered. As did the people of Sodom and Gomorrah discovered. As the Israelites who grumbled and complained and were thus left scattered in the wilderness discovered. God does not contend with man forever. He works through his Holy Spirit to draw us near to him, yet if we are too casual in our response to the Holy Spirit the bible says we can become irreparably damned. Scripture warns us not to quench the Holy Spirit. We are warned not to resist his work in such a way that our conscience becomes seared, and hardened to his voice. And this is what Pharaoh discovered.
God had told Moses ahead of time, that when he confronted Pharaoh God would “harden his heart” so that he would not let his people go. This concept of God hardening a person’s heart can seem quite ruthless to us sensitive 21st Century souls with our traditions of compassion and human rights. Yet Pharaoh’s showdown with God is a great case study in the process of what it looks like when a heart becomes hardened towards God, and how this can happen in such a way that doesn’t neglect the the freedom and dignity of a man made in God’s image.
God tells Moses twice that he will harden Pharoah’s heart, before Moses even approaches Pharaoh. As Moses appears before Pharaoh time and again, each time with another sign from God, the encounter is followed by a description of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, and each has a different description of the agency involved in that hardening: Whether attributed to Pharaoh himself, to God, or with no agency attributed at all (see Table below). The text only begins to speak of God acting directly upon the heart of Pharaoh in the wake of the sixth plague, the plague of boils.
| Miracle | Phrase | Reference |
| 0. Staff becomes snake | Pharaoh’s heart became hard and he would not listen to them, just as the Lord had said | Exodus 7:13 |
| 1. Blood | Pharaoh’s heart became hard; he would not listen to Moses and Aaron, just as the Lord had said | Exodus 7:22 |
| 2. Frogs | When Pharaoh saw that there was relief, he hardened his heart and would not listen to Moses and Aaron, just as the Lord had said | Exodus 8:15 |
| 3. Gnats | Pharaoh’s heart was hard and he would not listen, just as the Lord had said | Exodus 8:19 |
| 4. Flies | But this time also Pharaoh hardened his heart and would not let the people go | Exodus 8:32 |
| 5. Death of livestock | Yet his heart was unyielding and he would not let the people go | Exodus 9:1 |
| 6. Boils | The Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart and he would not listen to Moses and Aaron, just as the Lord had said to Moses | Exodus 9:12 |
| 7. Hail & fire | When Pharaoh saw that the rain and hail and thunder had stopped, he sinned again: he and his officials hardened their hearts | Exodus 9:34 |
| 8. Locusts | But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he would not let the Israelites go | Exodus 10:20 |
| 9. Darkness | But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he was not willing to let them go | Exodus 9:27 |
| 10.Death of firstborn |
This account of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart is great illustration of the paradox that is a God who is merciful and patient, yet at the same time sovereign, powerful and glorious. Pharaoh asked for a sign, and he was given one. A relatively harmless one, as Aaron’s rod-turned-snake devoured those of the Egyptian magicians. In this instance the text says that Pharaoh’s heart became hard. Not that Pharaoh acted consciously on his heart to harden it. Not that God acted directly on his heart. But that his heart merely was hardened in a more subconscious kind of way, driven no doubt by Pharaoh’s deep sense of pride. Yet although this initial hardening was subconscious, Pharaoh was not without responsibility for this hardening. While subconscious, it was yet in essence the result of Pharaoh’s cultivation of the vice of pride over his lifetime and his career. Pharaohs’s response to the plague of blood was the same as to the snake – a subconscious hardening. But after the second plague, the plague of frogs, when Pharaoh went back on his word and refused to let the Israelites go after all, the text says that “he hardened his heart.” The text suggests that here Pharaoh is beginning to truly act against his better judgment, and against his conscience.
The response of Pharaoh’s heart to the next three plagues were all the result of Pharaoh’s own conscious and subconscious reactions. It is only in response to the sixth plague, the plague of boils, that the text starts to explicitly talk of God himself hardening Pharaoh’s heart. God does not take sovereign control of the situation until he has given Pharaoh ample opportunity to choose whether or not to repent and to let the people of Israel go out of his depth of character and sensibility, accumulated in his heart. But 6 signs, 5 plagues, is enough. It is at this point that the Lord hardens Pharaoh’s heart directly, as he had told Moses he would do. The Lord hardens Pharaoh’s heart so that he does not repent as a result of the plague of boils. In doing so he creates platform by which he will bring about 3 more plagues that demonstrate the full force of his power and wrath, so that the Egyptians will well and truly know that “that there is no one like me in all the earth”.
When we are faced with evidence for this God, and when we see the weight of his favour on the people of Israel, and of the church through the ages, may we be as Moses and Aaron, and not as Pharaoh. May we have the courage and the humility to embrace this God, and to embrace his people. May we be careful to respond to God as we find his Holy Spirit at work in our lives, knowing that he will not contend with us forever. May our hearts be soft in his hands, may we not harden our hearts as Pharaoh, or as the children of Israel that were scattered in the desert. May we not quench his spirit, or sear our conscience against his voice, but may we be the whomsoever who rends eternal rest in him. May we be among the “every man” who asks him of his spirit, of wisdom and salvation, and in doing so receive the promised gift of wisdom, revelation and life eternal.
The stage is now set for the great showdown of Exodus, between the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and the many gods of Egypt. Moses and Aaron have already confronted Pharaoh, and told him to let the Israelites go, to hold a festival to the Lord in the wilderness. Pharaoh has not only resisted, but has increased the burden of the Israelite slaves by requiring them to gather their own straw, while yet demanding that they still produce the same number of bricks. The Israelite foremen in charge of the workers are furious at Moses for promising their people deliverance, but reaping only increased hardship and trouble.
God has promised again to Moses that he will indeed deliver the Israelites, and reiterates that his intention is to “harden Pharaoh’s heart”, in order that he might “multiply my signs and wonders in Egypt”, and “redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment,” so that “the Egyptians will know that I am the Lord”. But when Moses attempts to relay this message to the Israelite elders, he is ignored. And when he complains to God that no-one will listen to him, “since I speak with faltering lips”, God charges Aaron with being Moses’ spokesman before Pharaoh. But Pharaoh and the Egyptians are dismissive of Moses and Aaron’s challenge.
The Israelite foremen and elders are demoralised and despondent. Pharaoh’s harsh response has exhausted them of any hope and faith they might have had. Moses is discouraged, but he knows that this God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, is merciful, faithful and approachable. He still has faith, and God rewards that faith by visiting him one more time and emboldening Moses and Aaron for the task ahead of them. He tells Moses, “When Pharaoh says to you, ‘Perform a miracle,’ then say to Aaron, ‘Take your staff and throw it down before Pharaoh,’ and it will become a snake.” And in Exodus 7 we find that in response, “Moses and Aaron did just as the Lord commanded them.”
So Moses and Aaron return to Pharaoh. We are not told the nature of their greeting as they stand before Pharaoh a second time. Surely Pharaoh was expecting them to throw themselves at his feet, to ask for forgiveness for their earlier boldness, and reduce the burden of the Israelites. But instead they do just as the Lord told them, and tell Pharaoh once again to let the Israelites go. The Lord had told Moses and Aaron that Pharaoh would ask them to perform a miracle, and while the text does not record this request, the obvious inference from the text and its respect for God’s foreknowledge is that this is what happened.
And so Aaron throws his staff down in front of Pharaoh and his officials, and it becomes a snake. Pharaoh summons his wise men and sorcerers, and the Egyptian magicians also throw down their staffs, which also transform into snakes. But Aaron’s staff swallows up the staffs of the Egyptian magicians. And yet, in spite of this, the Pharaoh’s heart was hard, and he would not listen to Moses and Aaron, just as the Lord had said.
And God tells Moses to perform another sign which he’d hinted at back at the burning bush, the first of ten plagues, saying,
“Go to Pharaoh in the morning as he goes out to the river. Confront him on the bank of the Nile, and take in your hand the staff that was changed into a snake. Then say to him, ‘The Lord, the God of the Hebrews, has sent me to say to you: Let my people go, so that they may worship me in the wilderness. But until now you have not listened. This is what the Lord says: By this you will know that I am the Lord: With the staff that is in my hand I will strike the water of the Nile, and it will be changed into blood. The fish in the Nile will die, and the river will stink; the Egyptians will not be able to drink its water.’”
And so Moses strikes the water of the Nile with his staff, and all of the water in the river turns to blood. All of the waters of Egypt turn to blood – all of the streams, canals, ponds and reservoirs, even the water in every vessel of wood and stone. All of the fish in the river die, and the river smells so bad that the Egyptians cannot drink its water. But again, the Egyptian magicians can replicate the miracle, and still Pharaoh’s heart remains hard.
Then the Lord tells Moses to go again to Pharaoh to tell him to let the Israelites go, and to warn him that if he doesn’t, he will send a plague of frogs on his whole country. The text does not mention Moses’ actual visit, but clearly Pharaoh has refused again, and failed to heed the warning, because Aaron is given instructions from the Lord to “Stretch out your hand with your staff over the streams and canals and ponds, and make frogs come up on the land of Egypt.” And so he does, and frogs come up and cover the land.
Again the Egyptian magicians replicate the miracle, however now the Pharaoh is starting to relent, and he summons Moses and Aaron to the palace. He says to them, “Pray to the Lord to take the frogs away from me and my people, and I will let your people go to offer sacrifices to the Lord.” So Moses and Aaron intercede before the Lord, and the Lord stops the plague. But when Pharaoh sees that there is relief, he hardens his heart and goes back on his word, and refuses to let the Israelites go.
And so the Lord strikes Egypt with a third plague, this time with gnats, or lice, depending on your translation – no-one seems sure which it was. The same word is used in modern Hebrew for lice, and this is how the King James Version translated the word. But the earliest Greek versions of the Old Testament translated the word as gnats. Whichever it was, this time the Egyptian magicians cannot replicate the miracle. And because people and animals everywhere were infested, the magicians said to Pharaoh, “This is the finger of God.” But again Pharaoh’s heart was hard, and he would not listen.
These three plagues, the plagues of blood, frogs and gnats/lice, are the first of ten plagues that the Lord unleashes on Egypt – the “signs and wonders,” and “mighty acts of judgment” by which the Egyptians will learn that “I am the Lord”:
The first nine plagues can be grouped into sets of three – in each case the first begins with God telling Moses to confront Pharaoh early in the morning, the second also begins with a confrontation with Pharaoh but without mentioning the time of day, and the third with a direction to Aaron and Moses to set the plague in motion without warning Pharaoh. This schema and its history in rabbinical thought is set out in Rabbi Moshe Greenberg’s The Thematic Unity of Exodus III – XI (1967) and Understanding Exodus (1969). Prefacing the first, fourth and seventh plagues, the Lord declares a particular purpose for the plagues he is about to unleash. The first three plagues are prefaced “by this you will know that I am the Lord,” the next three are prefaced “you will know that I, the Lord, am in this land,” and the last three “so you may know that there is no one like me in all the earth.”
Pharaoh asked for a sign, and he was given one, but when Aaron’s staff was transformed into a serpent, Pharaoh in response summoned his own magicians, and they did the same thing – and so Pharaoh’s heart was hard. The first sign wasn’t enough for Pharaoh, and thus a greater display of power was required, with much more far-reaching consequences. In the first instance, when Aaron’s staff was transformed into a snake, no-one was harmed, save the staffs of the Pharaoh’s magicians that were swallowed up by Aaron’s staff. But when the waters of the Nile were turned to blood, including the waters of every stream, canal, pond, reservoir and vessel, suddenly the whole land of Egypt was without potable water. Yet because Pharaoh’s magicians could replicate the miracle, again his heart was hard.
Pharaoh has asked for a sign, to be persuaded that he should let the Israelites go. The staff transforming into a serpent wasn’t enough. Even the Nile turning to blood wasn’t enough. And so God performs a third sign, a second plague, and hordes of frogs come up out of the Nile and the waters of Egypt and cover the land. Pharaoh can laugh at a staff transformed into a serpent, he can tolerate a Nile turned to blood, but these frogs he cannot stand. And so he summons Moses and tells him that if he takes the frogs away he will let the people go to offer sacrifices to the Lord. Pharaoh has seen the sign he needed. Yet as soon as he sees there is relief, he hardens his heart, and refuses to let the Israelites go after all.
And so God unleashes the third plague, the plague of gnats, or lice. The frogs were intolerable to Pharaoh, yet these gnats, or more likely lice, must have been more abrasive than the frogs. The frogs jumped around in peoples’ homes and fields, but the lice were on the bodies of men and their families and their animals. But while Pharaoh sought relief from the frogs, with the lice he would not. This time his magicians could not replicate the miracle, and because the lice were on people and animals everywhere, they said to Pharaoh “This is the finger of God”. With his own officials starting to acknowledge God was on Moses’ side, there was no way that in his pride Pharaoh was going to invite that man into his palace to ask for his mercy. The admissions of his officials, and his insecurity in his stubbornness, demonstrate that these plagues were indeed achieving their purpose the Lord intended – that by these plagues the Egyptians would know that he is the Lord.
Pharaoh’s story is our story. From time to time, God interrupts our lives. Sometimes it is through strange coincidences that make or break our plans. Sometimes it is when one of God’s people challenge the way we live. Sometimes it is when we act on a longing for love, for significance, for our problems to be solved, for our life to make sense – and as a result we consider the reputation and the invitation of the God of the Jews and the Christians. Often in these situations, like Pharaoh, we demand a sign. The events that have led us to that moment – the coincidences, the messengers, the longings – are not enough. We feel justified to require something more overwhelming. There difference between Pharaoh and most of us, though, is that God gave Pharaoh what he asked for.
Sometimes, when we ask for a sign, God answers us. But for most of us, God responds as he did to the Pharisees who asked Jesus for a sign. Jesus told them, “A wicked and adulterous generation looks for a sign, but none will be given it except the sign of Jonah” (Matthew 12:39). He warned the Pharisees that their generation would be condemned by the men of Nineveh, who repented at Jonah’s preaching, and by the Queen of Sheba, who travelled from the end of the earth to here Solomon’s wisdom. For one greater than Jonah and Solomon stands before them, and they demand a sign.
Jesus warned his disciples about this “yeast of the Pharisees and the Sadducees” (Matthew 16:6). And in the same moment he showed it was at work, in that even though they had just witnessed Jesus feeding 4000 people seven loaves of bread and a few small fish, they thought he was concerned that they hadn’t brought any bread with them for their journey across the lake. In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul draws their attention to to the Israelites of the Exodus, who saw all of these signs, and even followed the pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire and passed through the sea, and yet grumbled and complained in the wilderness and asked to go back to Egypt. And as a result “their bodies were scattered in the wilderness”.
When we experience the interrupting power and love of God in our lives, it is not only interrupting, it is disrupting. When our attention is turned on the God who made the universe and holds it together, we become aware of a supremely powerful personal presence who knows us exactly as we are. A compassionate and gracious God, a God who forgives, a God who gives us another chance. A God who loves us so much that he wants his attention to be reciprocated. A God who wants us to come back to him, to the arms of our heavenly father, and to rest in the security of his love. To rest in the knowledge that the one who made and sustains the universe cares for us, and pays great attention to us and the details of our lives. To understand that we have a heavenly father who longs for us to join him in the family business of advancing his kingdom in the world – filling the world with the righteousness, peace and joy that reflects his nature.
With this kind of love and mercy, and this powerful agenda, it is little wonder that this is the God of the widow and the orphan; the God of the poor and the marginalised. He gives hope, love, peace and significance to those with no earthly inheritance. But for those with power, affluence and earthly security – the Pharaohs, the Pharisees, the Sadduccees, the educated 21st Century New Zealanders of this world – when we pause to consider this invitation of our heavenly father, it can feel as disruptive and challenging as it feels heart-warming. For the logical consequence of allowing ourselves to be touched by God’s love, is that we will understand that we are the work of his hands, and thus we will value his intentions for us, and allow our lives to be shaped by those intentions. This means a process of what the bible calls repentance, in which we walk away from the loves and addictions that are taking the place of God in our life, and allow his will and his love to direct us.
Like Pharaoh, and like the Pharisees and the Sadducees, we often find the rewards of our idols in our positions of privilege, power, comfort and prestige to be too gripping, and God’s love too challenging. And so we clamber for excuses to resist him. Most of the time it will be our pride and our reputation that we are clinging to. We cannot repent and put faith in Christ without admitting that to until we did we were in the wrong, both intellectually and morally. If we have made an idol of our own pride, and our own righteousness (whether embracing our goodness or our wickedness), and built our lives around this belief, we might consider the shame of admitting our folly to be too much for us. And this will be especially the case if our reputation matters to us as much as our pride in our own righteousness. Because confessing faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God revealed to us in Jesus Christ, means identifying with Jews and Christians.
For Pharaoh it meant conceding that the platform on which he was afforded so much honour as Pharaoh of Egypt, was inferior to that of the covenant God had made with Abraham, by which he God make Abraham’s descendants into a kingdom more eternal than that of Egypt. It meant conceding that the God of these filthy shepherd-slaves was greater than all of his gods, and that this people who he despised so much were in fact God’s people.
For the Pharisees, accepting the authority of Christ meant acknowledging that their traditions meant nothing if they were not founded on the teachings of Jesus. If they were to accept Jesus and profess faith in him, they would have to relegate the prestige afforded by their positions in the Pharisaic tradition, and take their place in the school of Jesus’ “uneducated” apostles. And as Pharaoh considered the Israelites unclean people, so the Pharisees considered Gentiles to be unclean. But in the Christian community, they would be required to welcome Gentile Christians, to walk with them and eat with them, and they would have to suffer marginalisation by their Non-Christian Jewish friends and family as a result.
For the Sadducees, accepting the authority of Christ would mean accepting his critique that the temple had become a den of robbers, and his foretelling that this temple would be destroyed and required no longer. It would mean accepting that the very monument and institutions they built their life around were about to come crumbling down. It would mean accepting that what really defined a man’s spirituality was not how he was honoured as a great and powerful leader in an earthly temple, but rather how much he looked like this suffering servant-Messiah Jesus. How much he embraced suffering for righteousness sake, to the point of being rejected and condemned to death by his fellow Sadducees.
Like Pharaoh, like the Pharisees and the Sadducees, the educated 21st Century New Zealander of this world has these same struggles when he considers Jesus’ invitation to follow him. We, too, take great pride in our intellectual and moral positioning. We, too, build our social lives around systems of virtue-signalling, or even vice-signalling. So when we face an invitation to make major changes to the way we think and speak and act, we too face a kind of credibility crisis, with our pride and reputation at stake. We are often in positions of privilege, power, comfort or prestige, and we can worry that a Christian conversion, and the expression of a newfound faith, might be cause for people to lose respect for us. This is especially so far us in an age where Christians are often typecast as irrational and bigoted, and as social, economic, and even moral failures.
And so, faced with these dilemmas, when challenged by the premise of God’s existence, we too resort to this idea that the evidence for this God – or for his integrity, or the universality of his invitation – is insufficient. We fool ourselves that if there really was a god, he would perform some great sign to persuade us of his presence. But in reality the evidence is sufficient – the problem is not the evidence, it is our heart. It is our unwillingness to give up our idols, our attachment to those things of privilege, power, comfort and prestige in our lives that we think we may have to sacrifice if we were to embrace this God and his people. But accepting that invitation will always mean rejection and condemnation from certain quarters among our friends and family. Jesus told his disciples, “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first.”
Claiming there is insufficient evidence and demanding a sign is a common, if not the most common excuse. But to do this one has to put one’s fingers in one’s ears and ignore things like the complexity, beauty and and finely tuned nature of the universe, the miracles of our own consciousness, the historical accounts of God in the bible, and the witness of Christians to a living God generation upon generation. To do so we have to ignore the strange coincidences and providences that occur in our own lives. Coincidences which might be just coincidences if the stack of other evidences wasn’t so high. We need to be honest, that asking for more evidence on top of all this won’t actually make a difference for us. Just as it didn’t make a difference for Pharaoh. Or for the Israelites wandering in the wilderness.
Jesus tells a parable about a rich man who dies, and finds himself in Hades (Hell), in torment, where he looks across a chasm to see a beggar that he knew, Lazarus, at Abraham’s side. The rich man calls out, “Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.”
Abraham tells the rich man this cannot be done, for they are separated by a great chasm, and “in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony.”
So the rich man requests that Abraham send Lazarus to his five brothers, to warn them so that they will not also come to this place of torment.
But Abraham replies, “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.”
But the rich man replies, “No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.”
And Abraham replies, “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”
We have all the evidence that is necessary, for us to repent, turn from our sins, and allow our lives to be shaped by the love and power of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. And the best evidence is the man who rose from the dead, Jesus Christ. A man who spoke with such authority as had never been seen before and has not been seen since. A man who taught with wisdom unmatched by the greatest of philosophers and kings. A man who was more than a man, who was God’s own son, God in the flesh, the full revelation of the father’s love, modelled in a life of humble and sacrificial generosity. A life given to atone for our sins and put us right with our heavenly father. A life that was raised from the dead, because by his sacrifice he had conquered the power of sin and death in the world.
Pharaoh’s story is our story, in that we, too, so often resist the work of God in our lives, and excuse ourselves by protesting that we need a sign. We cling to the worldly privilege, power, comfort and prestige, at the expense of eternal security and authentic love. Jesus said, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Matthew 19:24). And the 21st Century New Zealander is the rich man – not as rich as Pharaoh, but rich enough for the pleasures of our privileges and addictions to cloud our interest in the eternal God. A camel cannot pass through the eye of a needle, to do so would take a miracle. When Jesus made this comparison, the disciples asked, “Who then can be saved?” And Jesus replied, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
Pharaoh’s story might be our story, but it doesn’t have to be. Scores of rich men and women have since laid their attachments to their comforts, pleasures and privileges on the altar, and vowed to follow Jesus. God’s Holy Spirit is at work in the world to help men and women, rich and poor alike, to enter his kingdom, and enter into an eternal relationship with the loving and attentive creator of all things. He will knocks on your door, with strange coincidences and providences, and draw your attention to the great evidences of his existence – his glorious universe, humanity made in his image, the historical footprint of Jesus Christ, the testimony of the church. When he does, then be that miracle you have asked for, and allow the power of God to conquer your carnal attachments and desires, and allow his love to flood and shape your soul.
In Exodus 5 we read of Moses and Aaron’s arrival back in Egypt, and of the Israelite elders embracing them and their message that the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob was to liberate them from their bondage under Pharaoh. But we also read of Pharaoh’s lack of enthusiasm for this proposal, and his response to make the conditions of the Israelite slaves even harder – requiring them to gather their own straw but still produce the same number of bricks. And we read that the subsequent response of the Israelite foreman to Moses and Aaron was also less than enthusiastic.
But Moses had glimpsed the glory, majesty and power of this God in his experience at the burning bush. He’d had a taste of the dangerous wrath of this same God, when he was almost killed for daring to return to his people the Israelites without having circumcised his son. Moses had reason to believe that the Lord would accomplish what he said he would accomplish, in spite of these initial setbacks in Egypt.
And now, for the first time, we see Moses take the initiative with God. In each of God’s visitations to Moses so far, it is God who has taken the initiative. But Moses has learned from these experiences that God is willing to allow Moses to negotiate with him, to talk back to him. And in Exodus 5:22 we find that Moses “returns to the Lord”, to address the discouragement he is facing.
He complains,
“Why, Lord, why have you brought trouble on this people? Is this why you sent me? Ever since I went to Pharaoh to speak in your name, he has brought trouble on this people, and you have not rescued your people at all.”
The Lord appears not to take offence at Moses’ discouragement and lack of faith, and challenge of his character, and he replies,
“Now you will see what I will do to Pharaoh: Because of my mighty hand he will let them go; because of my mighty hand he will drive them out of his country.”
The Lord promises again that he will indeed deliver Israel from slavery under Egypt “with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment”, and bring them to the Promised Land.
Moses relays this assurance to the Israelites, but they ignore him because of their discouragement and harsh labour. And so he goes back to the Lord and says, “If the Israelites will not listen to me, why would Pharaoh listen to me, since I speak with faltering lips?”
The Lord makes the same compensation to Moses here, as he had at the burning bush, when Moses’ repeated his insistence “please send someone else” made the Lord “burn with anger”. God tells Moses that the eloquent Aaron would be the one who would speak to Pharaoh, and that the Lord has made Moses like God to Pharaoh, and Aaron to be his prophet.
But God again tells Moses that Pharaoh will continue to be obstinate, and tells him,
“I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and though I multiply my signs and wonders in Egypt, he will not listen to you. Then I will lay my hand on Egypt and with mighty acts of judgment I will bring out my divisions, my people the Israelites. And the Egyptians will know that I am the Lord when I stretch out my hand against Egypt and bring the Israelites out of it.”
Interspersed with this story, the text also details the family tree of Aaron. This family tree begins by outlining the sons of Jacob’s eldest sons Reuben and Simeon, as already presented in Genesis 46. It then goes into more detail regarding the descendants of Jacob’s third son Levi, including Moses and Aaron, the sons of Aaron, and the sons of Aaron’s cousin Korah – all who will feature later in the story of the Exodus.
Again, God is being merciful and gracious to Moses, as he was at the burning bush. Moses’ confidence in the Lord’s graciousness allows him to gather all of his honest doubts and concerns, and bring them before the Lord at his own initiative. He pulls no punches, and even seems to attempt to slight the Lord’s character, accusing the Lord of not doing what he had promised. This is the first time the bible records a man speaking to God in such a way – approaching him in a kind of protest, at his own initiative.
This model of being honest about our discouragements, taking the initiative to bring them before the Lord, and expressing them even in such a way that they might even challenge God’s character and integrity, becomes something of a model repeated time and again in the bible. The same approach is replicated in many of the great Psalms of David, the famous King of Israel, the man “with a heart after God”. Examples include Psalm 10 “Why, Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” And Psalm 22 “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish?”
But, of course, God’s character and integrity in his dealing with Moses is never really in question. Just as it is never really in question for David. God had already told Moses at the burning bush the Pharaoh was going to resist him. But the traumatic reality of Pharaoh’s resistance playing out in the real world seems to have caused Moses to forget this warning.
When Moses challenges the Lord, and complains that his obedience in confronting Pharaoh has not resulted in a great rescue by the Lord, but only increased oppression, God could have pointed out that he’d told Moses so at the burning bush. But he doesn’t. Instead he encourages Moses by restating his promise, that he will indeed deliver Israel from slavery under Egypt “with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment”, and bring them to the Promised Land. And when Moses complains that the Israelites won’t listen to him, God emphasises that Pharaoh will continue to resist, and that as a result the Lord would “lay my hand on Egypt and with mighty acts of judgment”. And he pledges that Aaron will be his spokesman. The result was that “Moses and Aaron did just as the Lord commanded them.”
When it comes to his dealing with Moses, God is solutions-oriented rather than blame oriented. Moses’ stubbornness can be infuriating for God, given the signs and wonders he is performing, and given his humble posture, allowing a sinful human man to hear his voice and see his glory. But God responds with grace and mercy to Moses, entertaining his stubbornness and his doubts, and giving him clear and constructive guidance to get the job done.
We can take heart from this example of Moses, replicated by great men and women of God through the ages, that when we are discouraged by failures, by suffering, and by injustices that we face – that God is gracious and patient in hearing our complaints and our protests. This grace and patience is not unlimited, was we will see when God is faced with the stubbornness and the grumbling of the Israelites in the wilderness. But it is sufficient to overlook our imperfections as we endeavour to respond faithfully to God’s leading in our lives.
And when God graciously hears our complaints and our protests, and guides us back to a deeper understanding of the big picture concerning what is in front of us, then we need to be like Moses and David. We need to be willing to concede that God has already given as all the information we need to know that he is sovereign and in control. Even when circumstances seem to all be going against the work God has led us into, the the glory he is meant to get as a result. God has warned us that Christians should in fact expect persecution and suffering, as much as we expect success and prosperity. And he has equipped us with a gospel that helps us make sense of this, and consoles us in this. He has anointed us with his own Holy Spirit to give us strength for the task. And he has set apart a great cloud of witness, past and present, to keep us company and inspire us on the journey.
In Exodus 3 & 4 we read that while Moses is tending to the flocks of his father-in-law Jethro at the foot of Mt Horeb, God speaks to him from a bush that is burning before his eyes, but is not consumed. The Lord tells Moses to return to Egypt and tell the elders of Israel that he is going to lead them up out of their misery in Egypt into the Promised Land. He tells Moses to go to Pharaoh with these elders, and tell him to let the Israelites go.
The Lord’s instructions strike a chord with Moses. Born an Israelite, but adopted by the Pharaoh’s daughter, his concern for his fellow Hebrews was the reason he’d had to flee to Midian in exile, after killing an Egyptian slavemaster who was beating a Hebrew. But Moses is riddled with doubt at the prospect that he could be considered credible by the Hebrew elders, or by Pharaoh. And the Lord, in his grace and patience, hears Moses’ protests. He promises Moses that he will be with him. He gives him signs and wonders to perform to persuade the people, and gives the role of spokesperson to Moses’ eloquent brother Aaron, who is coming to meet him.
In Exodus 4 we read that Moses takes leave of his father-in-law, Jethro, and departs Midian for Egypt with his wife Zipporah and his children. We read that the Lord visits Moses again, and briefs him again on how to approach Pharaoh. He gives Moses a message for Pharaoh, ‘This is what the Lord says: Israel is my firstborn son, and I told you, “Let my son go, so he may worship me.” But you refused to let him go; so I will kill your firstborn son.’
The text then describes a near-death experience of Moses, at the hand of God himself:
“At a lodging place on the way, the Lord met Moses and was about to kill him. But Zipporah took a flint knife, cut off her son’s foreskin and touched Moses’ feet with it. “Surely you are a bridegroom of blood to me,” she said. So the Lord let him alone.”
Next we read that God directs Moses’ brother Aaron to go to Mt Horeb where he is to meet with Moses. There the two brothers are reunited, and Moses tells Aaron everything.
The two then return to Egypt, and there tell the elders of Israel everything the Lord had said to Moses, and Moses also performs the signs before the people. The people respond with great faith, believing Moses and Aaron and taking heart that the Lord had heard their prayers, and they bow down and worship the Lord.
And Moses and Aaron go to Pharaoh as instructed, and tell him, ‘This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: Let my people go, so that they may hold a festival to me in the wilderness.’
But Pharaoh replies, “Who is the Lord that I should obey him and let Israel go? I do not know the Lord and I will not let Israel go.”
Moses and Aaron reply, “The God of the Hebrews has met with us. Now let us take a three-day journey into the wilderness to offer sacrifices to the Lord our God, or he may strike us with plagues or with the sword.”
But Pharaoh resists, and instead gives orders that the Israelite slaves no longer be supplied with straw for making bricks. They would have to gather their own straw, but still produce the same number of bricks. Pharaoh says, “Make the work harder for the people so that they keep working and pay no attention to lies.” By increasing the workload of the Israelites, Pharaoh hopes that they will be too tired to muster enough energy to organise any rebellion, or at least they would understand his power to punish them for even hinting at one.
When the Israelite foremen find that they cannot get any relief from Pharaoh’s harsh new demands, they go back to Moses and Aaron and say “May the Lord look on you and judge you! You have made us obnoxious to Pharaoh and his officials and have put a sword in their hand to kill us.”
The details of Moses’ 40-years sojourn in Midian, and his journey back to Egypt, can help us to identify the location of the Midianite country, and Mt Horeb/Mt Sinai, the famous mountain of God that Moses led Israel to when they left Egypt, where they received the Ten Commandments. We know from Exodus 3:1 there was an area of wilderness between where Jethro lived and Mt Horeb. And we know from Exodus 4:27 that Moses met Aaron at Mt Horeb after leaving Jethro for Egypt, having already lodged for a night on the way. It seems, therefore, that Mt Horeb is on the way from Jethro’s home to Egypt, on the other side of a small wilderness area that Moses drove flocks through.
The bible describes Midian as being to the east of Canaan, next to Edom and Moab. When Josephus tells the story of Moses’ arrival in Midian after fleeing from Egypt, he says that “he came to the city of Midian, which lay upon the Red Sea.” At Makna, at the north-west extremity of Saudi Arabia, on the Red Sea, is a well called Bir al Saidni. Local tradition holds this to be the well where Moses rolled away the stone to draw water for the flocks of Jethro’s daughters. To the north-east of Makna, about 30 minutes by car, on the other side of a small mountain range, is the town of Al-Bad’. Two kilometres south of this town are caves known as “The Caves of Jethro,” and nearby are some more caves which are considered the site of the historic city of Madyan.
To the north of Al-Bad’, beyond another range of small mountains, are the towering peaks of Jabal al-Lawz (2580m) and Jabal Maqla (2326m). Jabal Maqla literally means “burnt mountain”, and the tops of both of these peaks are capped by black igneous rock which gives the impression of the mountain summits being burned, and is indicative of past volcanic activity. With this appearance, these mountains give themselves away as the location of the biblical Mt Horeb/Mt Sinai. They are quite close to the main route from Makna and Al-Bad’ northwards to the ancient settlement of Elath at the tip of the Red Sea, in Edomite territory. Anyone travelling between Midian and Egypt would have to go through Elath to get around the Red Sea.
From Elath, the most direct route for a person travelling from Midian to Egypt was via the Darb esh-Shawi (Way of the Heights), which crossed the barren Tih Plateau near the settlement of Kalat en Nakhl (Nekhel). This road was the southernmost length of the ancient King’s Highway, which stretched from Resafa on the Euphrates in Syria to Damascus, then southwards through the Transjordan to Elath, and across the Wilderness of Sinai to Helipolis in Egypt. An alternative route may have been available to the south, skirting the Tih Plateau to Jabal Musa and the Feiran Oasis, and passing by the Egyptian turquoise mines of Wadi Maghareh and Serabit el-Khadim, but this was much less direct.
However, this Jabal Musa, on the southern route, is more well-known as candidate for the biblical Mt Sinai/Horeb. In the 6th Century the famous St Catherine’s Monastery was built there. This monastery is the world’s oldest continually operating library, possessing many unique books, such as the Syriac Sinaiticus, and housing the Codex Sinaiticus until 1859. When Byzantine Emperor Justinian gave the order for St Catherine’s Monastery to be constructed, it was to be built around the Chapel of the Burning Bush that Constantine the Great’s mother, Helena, had built on that site, around 330 AD. But this is the only evidence that prior to the 6th Century anyone believed it to be the location of Mt Sinai.
The Sinai Peninsula itself only became known as the Sinai Peninsula after the establishment of St Catherine’s Monastery, which had popularised the identification of Jabal Musa as Mt Sinai. It was convenient for both the Byzantine Empire which governed the Sinai Peninsula, and the non-orthodox (miaphysite) Ghassanid kingdom that governed Saudi Arabia, to entrench the belief among Orthodox Christians that Mt Sinai was at St Catherine’s Monstastery. This ensured that orthodox Christians looking to make pilgrimage to Mt Sinai were kept within the Byzantine Empire, and away from the miaphysite Ghassanids. This was all the more convenient when the Islamic caliphate ruled northern Arabia from the 7th centuy.
In Galatians 4:25 the Apostle Paul, like Josephus, locates Mt Sinai in Arabia. In the First Century, when Paul wrote, the name Arabia was applied to the entire Arab peninsula, and also included the Sinai Peninsula and Transjordaan – the Nabataean kingdom with its capital at Petra, known as Arabia Petraea. So this reference of Paul’s doesn’t resolve the matter one way or the other.
One way in which the location of Midian and Mt Horeb/Sinai might be settled is with reference to the details of the journey of the Israelites in the Exodus, after leaving Egypt. Numbers 33:3 says that they left Goshen on the fifteenth day of the first month, the day after Passover. Exodus 19:1 says that they reached Mt Horeb/Sinai on the first day of the third month. So the journey took a total of 47 days. Exodus 13:18 tells us that they travelled by the Desert Road towards the Red Sea, and Judges 11:16 insists that they passed through the wilderness before they reached the Red Sea.
Some commentators have interpreted yam-sūp̄ as “Sea of Reeds”, rather than “Red Sea”, and thus consider the crossing to have happened at the smaller Bitter Lakes close to Goshen. These commentators tend to prefer Jabal Musa in the Sinai Peninsula as Mt Horeb/Mt Sinai. They interpret the references to the wilderness and the desert road above as only pertaining to the journey of the Israelites from Pi-Ramesses to the Bitter Lakes. But other commentators suggest that a journey to the other side of the Sinai Peninsula, and a crossing of the eastern arm of the Red Sea to a Mt Horeb/Sinai in Nothern Arabia, makes better sense length of time it took the Israelites to reach the mountain of God.
Two recent documentary movies provide compelling evidence for this option. In Finding the Mountain of Moses: The Real Mount Sinai in Saudi Arabia, Ryan Mauro of the Clarion Project documents his visits to Jabal al-Lawz and its environs. He provides photographs and videos of geographical and archeological evidence that this is indeed Mt Sinai, and is the place where Moses dwelt with Jethro for 40 years, and where he led the nation of Israel after their Exodus. Tom Mahoney does the same in The Red Sea Miracle – the third film in his Patterns of Evidence series, released earlier this year. A fourth film, The Red Sea Miracle II, is planned to be released next week, on July 17. It is the archaeological evidence that is perhaps most compelling, and when this is considered together with geographical evidence and local traditions, it is hard to resist the argument that Mt Horeb/Sinai is located on the eastern shores of the Red Sea, in Nothern Arabia. In his Patterns of Evidence series, Tim Mahoney differentiates between what he calls the “Egyptian View” and the “Hebrew View”, noting that ultimately the difference between the two views concerns whether one is willing to accept that the Exodus was a “great miracle” (Hebrew View), or a “small miracle” (Egyptian View).
To come back to the text, a very intriguing element in the story is when the Lord himself visits Moses at a lodging place on the way, and tries to kill him, desisting only when Zipporah quickly circumcises Gershon and lays his foreskin on Moses’ feet. This comes immediately after the Lord tells Moses about his plan to harden Pharaoh’s heart so he refuses to let the Israelites go, and tells him that that because of Pharaoh’s failure to released God’s firstborn son, Israel, he would kill Pharaoh’s firstborn son.
Circumcision was an important part of the covenant God had made with Abraham, the covenant that Jacob had secured for himself and his descendants. God has stipulated to Abraham that “any uncircumcised male, who has not been circumcised in the flesh, will be cut off from his people; he has broken my covenant” (Genesis 17:14). Here, Moses is about to return to his people in Israel. He himself would have been circumcised by Amram and Jochebed, but clearly he and Zipporah hadn’t circumcised Gershon.
It would seem that circumcision wasn’t part of the Midianite culture of Jethro and his daughters, and that until the burning bush episode Moses had left behind his Israelite identity and embraced a new Midianite identity. But Zipporah quickly performs the circumcision, flinging the foreskin at Moses and telling him “Surely you are a bridegroom of blood to me.” It appears that it is only in this moment that Zipporah submits to the authority of Moses and his culture, rather than that of her own father. Now, both Moses and Zipporah understand the sincerity of the terms of the Abrahamic Covenant. And they understand that the God of this covenant has the ultimate power to determine the fate of any man, and any firstborn son, including that of the most powerful king in the world, whom he is on his way to confront.
Another intriguing element in the story is that God directs Aaron to go into the wilderness to meet Moses. God’s visit to Aaron is not detailed in the same way as Moses’ meeting with the Lord. But it must have been just as miraculous – for an 83-year old Aaron to manage to get away from Goshen where his people were enslaved, and travel all the way to Mt Sinai just to meet Moses. On one hand it seems strange that Aaron would venture all the way out to the absolute middle of nowhere to find Moses. But, on the other hand, it makes perfect sense that this is where he would find him.
The attraction of Sinai in the Midianite region of Arabia had to be its isolation. Moses needed to be on the absolute margins to be safe from Pharaoh. Here, well out of sight of the nations of the ancient near east, God could reveal himself in great glory to Moses, Aaron and the people of Israel, while at the same time guarding the sacredness of that glory. Here they were tucked away with the giant mote of the Red Sea to the west and south, the rugged ranges of the Hijaz mountains to the north, and the inhospitable Hisma plateau and Great Nafud Desert to the east. This was a place where a huge travelling band of over two million people could camp, without being visible or vulnerable to the surrounding nations, as they prepared for their entrance to the Promised Land.
And so Aaron returns to Egypt, and for the first time in 40 years so too does Moses and his family. Together they relay to the elders of Israel everything God had told them, and perform the miraculous signs before them, and the Israelites take heart and put their faith in God’s promise of deliverance. Moses and Aaron then approach the Pharaoh with their request that he let the Israelites go so that they can take a three-day journey into the wilderness to offer sacrifices to their God. It is revealed in a later conversation with Pharaoh that the reason for travelling three days into the wilderness to offer their sacrifices is because the Egyptians consider their sacrifices detestable. But Pharaoh predictably reacts with scorn, and with outrage, and has the Israelites made to gather their own straw, and yet continue to make the same number of bricks.
As the Hebrew officers in charge of forced labour complain to Moses and Aaron, and say “May the Lord look on you and judge you!”, the hearts of Moses and Aaron must have sunk. Moses had given up his comfortable life in Midian to return to Egypt, and on the way had been almost killed by God for not having circumcised his son. Aaron had no doubt risked his life to escape Egypt to Mt Sinai, and had risked his honour and credibility as an elder of Israel by taking Moses seriously and presenting him to his fellow elders. The plan that this nation of two million slaves would just up and leave their overlords in Egypt, and walk into the land of Canaan and make it their own was a wild idea indeed. The Israelites had responded to the plan faithfully and worshipfully, but how would they respond when Pharaoh’s reaction is so severe?
Yet God had warned Moses that he would harden Pharaoh’s heart, and Pharaoh would refuse to let them go, and that the result of this was that God would kill Pharaoh’s firstborn son. Moses’ own near-death experience with God immediately after this warning surely helped to entrench this advice in his memory. On one hand, Moses would have had understandable doubts about the chances of successfully negotiating the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt. On the other hand, his vivid experiences of the God of his forefathers meant he really had no other option than to have faith, and press on, knowing that the Pharaoh’s stubbornness was no surprise either to himself or to the Lord. Knowing that ultimately the Lord would use his sovereign supernatural power to save them with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, and strike the Egyptians with great wonders so that Pharaoh lets them go.
It is not uncommon for us as Christians to find ourselves in similar kinds of situations. Where our attempts to obey God, and our efforts to do good in the world, are met only with resistance and hostility. In these situations, it is tempting to doubt that we heard God right in the first place, and to consider whether we should give up and live a quieter life. This can be especially true for people involved in challenging fields like church planting or political engagement. But it can be true of anyone merely trying to counsel people to make better life decisions. Whether addressing concerns about dependency on toxic relationships, substances or superstitions, or addressing attitudes and behaviours that exploit or demean other people.
Often God will lead us to reach out and help people as he called Moses and Aaron to help Israel. Or he will lead us to stand up to powers and authorities that are exploiting people, as Moses and Aaron had to do to Pharaoh. And often when we do so we are looked upon with suspicion and mistrust by those we are trying to help, and disdain by those we are trying to reprove.
Like Moses, in these situations we need to remember that our briefing from God includes a warning that this is to be expected. Jesus warned his disciples, “A servant is not greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also” (John 15:20). He told them, “Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword” (John 10:34). He told them that there would be those who would listen to their words, but there would also be many who will not. Their job was to find those who would, without being put off by the many who wouldn’t. And to do this knowing “straight is the gate, and narrow the path, and few are those that find it” (Matthew 7:14).
In Exodus 2 we read of Moses, a Hebrew living in the Land of Goshen in Egypt, who had been placed by his mother in a papyrus basket, coated with tar and pitch, and set among the reeds of the Nile River to escape the massacre of baby Hebrew boys ordained by Pharaoh. We read that he was discovered by the Pharaoh’s daughter when she came to the river to bathe, and adopted as her son, and likely groomed to be an heir to the Pharaoh, until kin was naturally born to the Pharaoh’s household.
We read that as a man of about 40, likely the time that the preferred and natural heir and co-regent was coming of age, Moses grew increasingly conscious of his Hebrew identity, and while visiting his people working hard at their labour killed an Egyptian slavemaster he found beating a Hebrew. When the Pharaoh learned of this, he made plans to kill Moses, who on learning of those plans fled to Midian. There in Midian, Moses was welcomed into the home of Reuel after rescuing his daughters from some rogue shepherds, and he settled with Reuel and his family, and married Reuel’s daughter Zipporah.
In Exodus 3 we find Moses is tending to the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro. This man, when he first received Moses, is referred to as “Reuel”, meaning “friend of God”. Now, 40 years later according to Acts 7:30, we find he is being referred to as Jethro, meaning “abundance”. Philo, in his glowing Life of Moses, says that Moses was the most skilful herdsman of his time, and the increase and quality of his flock was the envy of all herdsmen around. Reading between the lines, the two names of Moses’ father-in-law appear to be a testament to the faithfulness of the God of Jacob. Reuel, in receiving Moses into his family, proved to be a friend of God (“Reuel”). And this commitment to Moses, and to the God of Jacob, was rewarded with abundance (“Jethro”).
While Moses is tending to the flock of Jethro, he leads the flock to the other side of the wilderness, to “Horeb, the mountain of God,” Here he sees a bush which is on fire, but doesn’t burn up.
On going to inspect this mysterious bush, God calls to him from within the bush, “Moses! Moses!”
Moses replies, “Here I am.”
God tells Moses “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.” And he says to him, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God.
Then God said to Moses:
“I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey—the home of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. And now the cry of the Israelites has reached me, and I have seen the way the Egyptians are oppressing them. So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt.” – Exodus 3:7 – 10
But Moses replies, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”
God replies, “I will be with you. And this will be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain.”
But Moses asks God, “Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ Then what shall I tell them?”
And God replies, “I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: ‘I am has sent me to you.’”
He tells Moses:
“Say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your fathers—the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob—has sent me to you.’ “This is my name forever, the name you shall call me from generation to generation.” He tells Moses to assemble the elders of Israel and say to them, ‘The Lord, the God of your fathers—the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob—appeared to me and said: I have watched over you and have seen what has been done to you in Egypt. And I have promised to bring you up out of your misery in Egypt into the land of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites—a land flowing with milk and honey.’” – Exodus 3:15 – 17
The Lord tells Moses to approach the Pharaoh with the elders of Israel, and tell him that ‘The Lord, the God of the Hebrews, has met with us,’ and that they need to take a three-day journey into the wilderness to offer sacrifices to the Lord their God.
But The Lord warns Moses:
“I know that the king of Egypt will not let you go unless a mighty hand compels him. So I will stretch out my hand and strike the Egyptians with all the wonders that I will perform among them. After that, he will let you go. And I will make the Egyptians favorably disposed toward this people, so that when you leave you will not go empty-handed.” – Exodus 3:19 – 21
Moses replies, “What if they do not believe me or listen to me and say, ‘The Lord did not appear to you’?”
In response, the Lord has Moses throw his staff on the ground, and it becomes a snake. He grabs it by the tail, and it returns to the form of a staff. God tells Moses to put his hand inside his coat, and when he pulls it back out it is leprous. He puts it back inside his cloak, and it is restored.
The Lord then tells Moses, “If they do not believe these two signs or listen to you, take some water from the Nile and pour it on the dry ground. The water you take from the river will become blood on the ground.”
But Moses replies, “Pardon your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.”
The Lord replies to him, “Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”
But Moses is not convinced, and he replies “Pardon your servant, Lord. Please send someone else.”
And we read that “the Lord’s anger burned against Moses,” but he says to him:
“What about your brother, Aaron the Levite? I know he can speak well. He is already on his way to meet you, and he will be glad to see you. You shall speak to him and put words in his mouth; I will help both of you speak and will teach you what to do. He will speak to the people for you, and it will be as if he were your mouth and as if you were God to him.” – Exodus 4:14 – 16
40 years have passed since Moses fled Egypt, where he had grown up in the Pharaoh’s court, among the most powerful rulers of the world. Where he had suffered from great inner turmoil as a man born Hebrew, and adopted by the family that had enslaved his kin. He has been in Midian 40 years, married to Zipporah and working as a shepherd for her father Reuel that entire time. He has a good life, a stable and successful job. He has a longstanding wife, and sons to her – Gershom and Eliezer. In Egypt all eyes were on Moses. In Midian he is a nobody – he can live a simple life without great moral dilemmas. He can live “the good life,” a peaceful life as a shepherd, working for his father-in-law, and he has gotten used to it. But now here is God speaking him to a burning bush that won’t stop burning, telling him to go back to Egypt to confront the powers that be – to actually do something about the injustice that grieved him so deeply as a young man.
But he has understandable questions and concerns. The last time he tried doing something to confront Israel’s slavery, he wasn’t met with gratitude from his fellow Israelites. Rather, the men that he tried to separate from fighting said to him, “Who made you ruler and judge over us? Are you thinking of killing me as you killed the Egyptian?”
Moses was raised in the halls of power and leadership. But he wasn’t confident that his reputation among his fellow Israelites would endear himself to them. They likely knew of this exiled prince of Egypt, who had been born a Hebrew, and adopted by the Pharaoh’s daughter after his mother put him in the Nile. They likely knew that he’d developed some interest in them and concern about their treatment, as he came of age. But however astute he may be, however inclined to their interests; how could they put their confidence in a man so foolish? A man who killed an Egyptian slavemaster behind Pharaoh’s back, inciting the Pharaoh to try to kill him, only to run away when Pharaoh tried to track him down. A man who then went silent for 40 years as an exile in the wilderness. If this Moses showed up and claimed to be the man to deliver Israel from slavery to the Promised Land, because God had told him so from a burning bush, why on earth would anyone take him seriously?
Moses’ questions seem legitimate. But God’s has a limited amount of patience for them. On one hand Moses has removed his shoes and hid his face out of fear and reverence for the Lord. But on the other hand, there are some quite simple steps of logic he is failing to make, as the creator of the cosmos briefs him for the task. And the Lord entertains Moses’ many objections with an interesting mixture of grace and scorn. When Moses objects, “Who am I?”, The Lord responds by saying “I will be with you.” When Moses asks what he should do if the people don’t believe him, the Lord gives him special powers to perform supernatural signs and wonders.
The Lord has promised to be with Moses, and has shown his power there and then by turning the staff into a snake, and making Moses’ hand leprous – great priveleges and marvellous powers. Now, when Moses objects another time, The Lord is starting to lose his patience. When Moses complains he is not eloquent of speech, The Lord scolds Moses “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute?” Yet he promises Moses to help him speak and teach him what to say. And when Moses objects again, and asks the Lord to “please send someone else,” the text says that The Lord burned with anger. But even in his anger he graciously concedes to Moses, and defers the task of speaking to Moses’ brother Aaron.
This interchange between Moses and God, this mere man negotiating with God and securing more favourable terms, is reminiscent of Abraham’s attempts to have Sodom and Gomorrah spared from judgment, and Jacob’s wrestling with the angel of the Lord until daybreak, insisting on a blessing. What is common to all three accounts, and intriguing, is the willingness of God to allow mere men to speak back to him, and to negotiate with him. Abraham appealed to God’s just character to try to establish fair terms for sparing Sodom and Gomorrah. In entertaining Abraham’s petitions, God allowed God’s own character to be both challenged, and proven. In entertaining Jacob in a wrestling match, God gave Jacob an opportunity to plumb the depth of Jacob’s own character and convictions. God knew how precious the blessing was to Jacob, but God gave Jacob the chance to know and to feel just how deep that conviction really was.
God’s negotiations with Jacob revealed the depths of Jacob’s willingness. But in negotiating with Moses, God was having to navigate the opposite – Moses’ unwillingness. If there is one thing common to all three accounts, one great good that God demonstrates an interest in, it is that of human consent, or willingness. God clearly has an interest that when he involves us in his affairs, and we knowingly undertake work for him, we do so with clear and unambiguous consent – with a deep willingness that comes from a genuine sense of freedom.
Abraham’s negotiations with God proved to God that Abraham had confidence in God’s character, mercy and faithfulness. And that this confidence was strong enough that Abraham was willing to challenge God where the integrity of that character seemed to be at stake. Abraham’s petitions proved that he could relate to God as a just God, and hold him to account for this justice. And so rather than responding out of mere fear, Abraham’s relationship with God could be grounded in a sense of love and admiration for God, and a sense of security and solace that was guaranteed by God’s faithfulness, and his power to provide and protect.
Jacob’s wrestling with God proved to both God and Jacob that he was the right man for the job of establishing the nation of Israel. In doing so, Jacob set a standard for those who followed after him, and followed after this God. Jacob didn’t merely consent to be the father of God’s chosen nation – he wrestled for that job with all of his heart and soul and strength and mind. And this is the standard for the kind of worshippers that God prefers – not mere consent, but added to that consent a desire to love him with all our heart and soul and strength and mind.
Abraham’s petitions proved man’s capability to love God out of confidence in his character, mercy and faithfulness – rather than out of fear. Jacob’s wrestling proved man’s capability to love and pursue God wholeheartedly. Moses’ negotiations, on the other hand, proved God’s willingness to work around and compensate for our insecurities and lack of faith, and to be gracious enough to work with what little willingness we have, to worship and serve him. God selected Moses for the job of confronting Pharaoh and leading the Israelites out of slavery. But he wasn’t going to twist Moses’ arm behind his back to achieve it. He would graciously empower Moses with a promise to be always with him, and with signs and wonders, and would compensate for Moses’ concern about his lack of eloquence, having equipped his brother Aaron to be his spokesman.
These accounts illustrate God’s character, as a gracious and meek God, who wants our worship of him to be grounded in love, admiration, security and solace – not fear. He wants our worship to be motivated by a deep willingness and gratitude that comes from a genuine sense of freedom. Throughout the bible, and through human history, we see that everything God does is consistent with these goals.
We see this most clearly in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ two millennia ago. As God in the flesh, Jesus held all authority in heaven and on earth. Yet, in spite of his authority, “the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:28). Jesus gave away power, and sacrificed his life, confident that it would be his example of love that would draw people to bow the knee before him, rather than any exertion of aggressive force. There will come a day of reckoning, when Jesus uses his complete omnipotence to cleanse the universe of evil, and bring about a new heaven and a new earth. But today his focus, and the focus of the church, is to direct our attention to his death on the cross for our sins: So that we would understand the great love he has for us, and respond to him with gratitude for that love, rather than with fear for the power he holds over us. So that, like Abraham, Jacob and Moses, we would be willing worshippers, who love and serve God with the same kind of wholehearted willingness with which he loves us.
The ball is in our court. We can succumb to the popular temptation, of complaining that there isn’t enough evidence for God, or that there is too much suffering in the world, or in our own lives, for there to be a God, or for him to really love us. Or we can marvel at the ways in which God has reached out to is in Christ, in the bible, and through the church, and through those providences and coincidences in our own lives we too quickly forget. We can accept that God will not reveal himself so much that his presence would be overwhelmingly compelling, and see the life of Christ, and the testament of the bible and the church for what it is: A subtle, discreet and gentle offer of fellowship that requires us to first make a humble response to all he has done for us already.
And we can understand that when we come to God, when we seek him and follow him, he doesn’t expect us to do so with perfect faith, and perfect obedience. He expects us to talk back to him – like Abraham, like Jacob, like Moses. And he will graciously make allowances for our protests and our imperfections, as we begin the journey towards one day looking as perfectly loving and faithful as his only begotten son, Jesus Christ.
In Exodus 2 we are introduced to a man who seems to tower above every other man in the Old Testament of the bible – Moses. We are introduced to him as a baby boy, born among the people of Israel in the land of Goshen in Egypt. Here the Israelites have prospered and grown to a great number, only to have been made slaves by a powerful new Pharaoh who fears this fruitful and prosperous people on the fringe of his kingdom.
So much did the Pharaoh fear the Israelites, that at the time Moses was born he had given the command that every Hebrew boy be thrown into the Nile River to die. But Moses’ mother Jochebed put him in a papyrus basket, coated it with tar and pitch, and set him among the reeds in the river where Pharaoh’s daughter came to bathe. And Pharaoh’s daughter took pity on the baby Moses, and took him into her care. Jochebed shrewdly arranged to nurse her own son for wages, but when he was weaned Moses was returned to Pharaoh’s daughter and became her son.
In verse 11 we meet Moses again, now a man, and we find that he “went out to where his own people were and watched them at their hard labour.” Seeing an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, he kills the Egyptian and hides him in the sand, thinking no-one has seen him. But Pharaoh learns of it, and in recompense tries to kill Moses, but Moses flees from Pharaoh and goes to the land of Midian. There he sits down by a well, and he sees the daughters of a local priest approaching the well to water their father’s flock, only to be accosted by another band of shepherds who try to drive them away. So Moses steps in and rescues them, and waters their flock, and when the women report to their father Reuel what has happened, he invites Moses to come and dine with his family. Moses agrees to stay with Reuel, and marries his daughter Zipporah.
Exodus 2:23 records that after a long time had passed, the king of Egypt died, and in response:
“The Israelites groaned in their slavery and cried out, and their cry for help because of their slavery went up to God. God heard their groaning and he remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac and with Jacob. So God looked on the Israelites and took notice of them.”
The Christian disciple Stephen, renowned as the first recorded martyr for his faith, recounted details from the life of Moses in his great speech before the Sanhedrin on the day he was killed. He told that Moses was 40 years old when he killed the Egyptian slavemaster and fled to Midian, and 80 when he returned to Egypt (see Acts 7). The Book of Exodus doesn’t record Moses’ age when he fled to Midian, but concurs that he was 80 when he returned to Egypt and led the Israelites out of Egypt. The Book of Jubilees, which dates back to at least the 1st Millenium BC, records that Moses was 42 when he fled to Midian, and 80 when he confronted the Pharaoh and led the Israelites to the Promised Land.
The Book of Exodus doesn’t make it clear at what stage Moses became aware of his identity as a Hebrew. If his foster mother was Bithiah of 1 Chronicles 4, then it is possible that this daughter of Pharaoh was herself the daughter of a Hebrew woman, and that she married a Hebrew man. It is possible that Moses understood himself as a dual citizen of Egypt and Israel all along. The text of Genesis infers that this daughter of Pharaoh was raised with the privileges of Pharaoh’s court, with the reference to having attendants with her as she went to bathe in the Nile. It also infers that Moses was raised as an Egyptian, given that this encounter with the Egyptian slavemaster occurred when Moses “went out to where his own people were”.
The Book of Jubilees reports that Moses’ father Amram taught him writing before he was presented to the Egyptian court. This plain and modest account is more believable than that of Philo’s 1st Century Life of Moses, which tells of Moses being educated by masters from all over Egypt and even from Greece, and quickly surpassing the knowledge of them all. Yet both Philo’s Life of Moses, and Josephus’ Antiquities of the Jews of the same vintage, tell of the Pharaoh’s daughter’s attempts to raise Moses as an heir to the Pharaoh, adopting him for this purpose, herself having no brothers and no sons. It seems believable that Moses’ foster-mother was not merely one of many daughters of Pharaoh, but rather “the daughter of Pharaoh” – the only heir. And such a description is entirely accurate of Princess Hatshepsut, the only surviving daughter and heir of Thutmose I and his chief wife Ahmose. Her father Thutmose I is the best candidate to be the Pharaoh who enslaved the Egyptians in Exodus 1.
Hatshepsut was married to her brother by another mother – Thutmose II, the son of Thutmose I’s secondary wife, Mutnofret. Thutmose II succeeded his father as Pharaoh of Egypt, and he took Iset as a second wife, who bore him Thutmose III (see diagram below for family tree).
Hatshepsut bore Thutmose II no children, and when he died the Egyptian throne passed to Thutmose III, only 2-years old. But Hatshepsut secured the throne in his stead, and ruled as Pharaoh for around 21 years until Thutmose III acceded to the throne and began his famous military campaigns into the Levant. The death and burial of Hatshepsut, and the location of her mummy, is surrounded by plenty of mystery. Even her very existence was shrouded by the fact that, around the time of the end of the reign of Thutmose III and into the reign of his son, an attempt was made to remove her from historical and pharaonic records. It seems that the more the historical details are explored, the more the story of Moses fits well with the circumstances of the 18th dynasty of Egypt in the 15th Century BC.
The fit isn’t perfect though. For example, under the schema discussed above, Moses would have fled to Midian when his foster-mother Hatshepsut was Pharaoh of Egypt, and Thutmose III only 14 and co-regent with his auntie. In this scenario, Moses’ flight to Midian suggests that either he feared his foster-mother, or he couldn’t rely on her to keep him safe from the teenage Thutmose III. Also, in this scenario, Hatshepsut has kept the Hebrews in slavery, in spite of the mercy she had shown Moses in her youth. None of this is unbelievable – no doubt keeping the Israelites enslaved would have helped Hatshepsut secure the position of Pharaoh. And as the son of the previous Pharaoh came into manhood, there was a likely groundswell towards Thutmose III, and away from Hatshepsut & her adopted Hebrew son. But if Hatshepsut was Moses’ foster-mother, it would seem impossible that this powerful Pharaohess who kept the Hebrews in slavery was one and the same with Bithiah, a woman married to a Hebrew of the tribe and Judah, with many sons by him. Another problem with the schema above is the way that the plagues God inflicted on Egypt, and and the defeat of the Egyptian army at the Read Sea, seem to have little impact on the trajectory of the New Kingdom Eighteenth Dynasty, and certainly aren’t recorded by them.
The issues of the identity of Pharaoh’s daughter, and the impact of the plagues and Red Sea defeat on Egypt, are better resolved by a Twelfth Dynasty Middle Kingdom Exodus, as promoted by the likes of Immanuel Velikovsky and David Rohl. The third Pharaoh of this dynasty, Amenemhat II, had 3 daughters who were buried with him, but there is no explicit attestation that his successor, Senusret II, was his son. Amenemhat II could thus be a candidate to be the Pharaoh who enslaved the Hebrews and killed their baby boys, while one of his daughters could be the woman that Philo and Josephus speak of who hoped that their Moses could be the rightful heir. Senusret II’s grandson Amenhemat III would be the Pharaoh that Moses fled to Midian 40 years later, who ruled around 40 years, and died just before Moses returned to Egypt. And his son Amenhemat IV would be the Pharaoh Moses confronted on his return, who had no male heir (killed in the plague), and whose tomb has not been positively identified (the Red Sea).
In this schema, the Pharaoh’s daughter who adopted Moses would not be Bithiah of 1 Chronicles 4 – this honour would belong to the last Pharaoh of the Twelfth dynasty, the daughter of Amenhemat III, Sobekneferu, who is recorded as having a 4-year reign, and whose tomb has not been positively identified. Still a young woman at the time, seeing the Egyptian kingdom collapse all around her, as heir to a Pharaoh whose army was drowned in the Red Sea, she may have eventually realised her best life now would be to walk away from Egypt and take up with the Hebrews.
But while this sounds like a good fit, the bible does not say that the Pharaoh died in the Red Sea with his army. There is no explicit evidence that the demise of Egypt at the end of the Twelfth Dynasty was related to a series of deadly plagues and an exodus of a million and a half Semites from Goshen into Canaan. Rather, this is the period in which large numbers of Canaanites migrated into Egypt, settling in the Nile Delta en masse, where they eventually established an independent dynasty of Canaanite Pharaohs at Avaris – the Fourteenth Dynasty, which was in turn was conquered by the invasion of the Hyksos, a Semitic people from the Levant, who established the Fifteenth Dynasty. It is more likely that the Pharaohs of the Twelfth Dynasty were ruling when Joseph served the Pharaoh as governor and vastly centralised the nation state as a result of the 7-year famine, as the Pharaohs of the Twelfth dynasty were the most powerful Pharaohs of the Middle Kingdom.
The events of the Exodus can be shown to fit with either the Twelfth Dynasty or the Eighteenth Dynasty of Egypt, and the balance of evidence and opinion seems to point to the Eighteenth Dynasty. The Book of Exodus infers that Moses was raised as an Egyptian, with the privileges of Pharaoh’s court. But the Pharaoh’s intent to kill Moses as recompense for his killing a slavemaster suggests that while Moses enjoyed the privileges of the Pharaoh’s court, he certainly wasn’t one of his favourites. Clearly the Pharaoh already had reasons to be nervous about Moses, and this event gave him the excuse and the impulse he needed to try to remove Moses from the picture. If the accounts of ancient Jewish literature are to be taken seriously, then Moses would appear to have been conscious of his adoption and his Hebrew background since his childhood – contrary to what is depicted in famous movies of the Exodus.
The New Testament Epistle to the Hebrews says:
“By faith Moses, when he had grown up, refused to be known as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. He chose to be mistreated along with the people of God rather than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of greater value than the treasures of Egypt, because he was looking ahead to his reward.” – Hebrews 11:24 – 26
Moses chose to seek first the kingdom of God, and seek justice for the people of his birth, rather than to embrace and pursue the privileges that came with being an heir in the most powerful kingdom in the world. Rather than making a name for himself as a son and Prince of Egypt, he would embrace his identity as a son of Israel, a son of a special people God had set apart for himself. Just as Pharaoh’s daughter, whoever she was, would now be known as Bithiah – meaning, in Egyptian, daughter of Yah (the Hebrew God) – rather than being known as the daughter of Pharaoh. That historical records prevent us from confidently placing Moses and his foster-mother in one Egyptian dynasty or another reinforces this message, that their identity in God and in Israel is what is of importance.
Moses’ example in the biblical hall of fame, in Hebrews 11, is given as encouragement for us as Christians, to be like Moses. To embrace the hardship and suffering that can come when we unashamedly follow God and walk with his people, and are rejected, maligned and persecuted by the powers that be as a result. If Moses could have the strength to resist the pull of the power and glory of ancient Egypt, surely we too can have the courage to resist the temptations to power and privilege we face, and resist them in order to follow and worship God, and bring him glory. With the confidence that, as was the cases for Moses, that “He who humbles himself under the hand of God will be exalted in due time” (1 Peter 5:6).
That means not keeping the profound impact of God’s love on our life a secret, for fear of what others might think of us. It means being willing to confess our faith publicly as the Holy Spirit leads us, and being open to be led in that direction in the first place. It means giving away power, prestige, comfort and wealth, rather than clinging to it anxiously. Risking our jobs, our businesses, because we are willing to express opinions that are unpopular.
Such as that it is only the God of the Jews and the Christians that we can credit with the glories of our lives, and only him that we are ultimately accountable to for our follies. Such as that the point of human existence and the trajectory of human history is to bring glory to this God, by the setting apart of a people who worship him and reflect his nature. Such as that all human projects are vanity unless they serve this purpose. As is any confidence placed in any power that obfuscates the glory of this God.
It means having the grace and the willingness to rub shoulders with people who challenge our way of thinking, but clearly worship this same God that we follow. When we are willing to treat such people as brothers and sisters, it is then that God’s kingdom truly begins to advance on Earth, and our lives find their greatest meaning.
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” – Hebrews 12:1 – 3
The Book of Exodus is the second of the five books of the Pentateuch. These books are also known together as the “Book of the Law”, or the “Book of Moses”. They tell the origin story of the nation of Israel, and are presented in chronological order: 1) Genesis, 2) Exodus, 3) Leviticus, 4) Numbers & 5) Deuteronomy. The story of Israel begins in Genesis Chapter 12, with the creator of the universe speaking to one man, Abraham, and leading him out of the city or Ur and into the land of Canaan. God promises the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants, and pledges to create from Abraham’s descendants a special people set apart for himself, whom he will bless, and by whom he will bless the world.
The Book of Genesis follows the life of Abraham, his son Isaac, and his grandson Jacob and his twelve sons, in the Promised Land. It closes with Jacob and his sons having gone south to Egypt, where they shelter from a widespread famine. There they are privileged to enjoy the hospitality of Jacob’s long-lost son Joseph, who has been appointed Governor of all Egypt and manager of the storehouses of grain during the famine, on account of the godliness and wisdom God has blessed him with. The people of Egypt are subjected to servitude to pay for the grain that they buy from the Pharaoh to survive the famine. But the Israelites, protected by Joseph, grow from strength to strength in the land of Goshen, acquiring property and prospering, and increasing greatly in number.
The presence and growth of the Israelite population in Goshen appears to coincide with the emergence of Avaris as a major Egyptian city, populated largely by migrants from Canaan – perhaps as the result of Joseph’s provision for them during the famine. When Egypt is invaded by the Hyksos in the 17th Century BC, these new lords of Egypt make Avaris the capital of the Fifteenth Dynasty of Egypt, and Avaris becomes the largest city in the world. The Hyksos were a Semitic-speaking people, like the Israelites, and these descendants of Shem may have been of mutual help to each other in retaining their privileged position in Egyptian society.
This is the backdrop to the Book of Exodus, which begins by recording that after the death of Joseph and his brothers (Ex. 1:7): “the Israelites were exceedingly fruitful; they multiplied greatly, increased in numbers and became so numerous that the land was filled with them.”
However, in Exodus 1:8 we read that this time of fruitfulness met a challenge:
“Then a new king, to whom Joseph meant nothing, came to power in Egypt. “Look,” he said to his people, “the Israelites have become far too numerous for us. Come, we must deal shrewdly with them or they will become even more numerous and, if war breaks out, will join our enemies, fight against us and leave the country.”
So they put slave masters over them to oppress them with forced labor, and they built Pithom and Rameses as store cities for Pharaoh. But the more they were oppressed, the more they multiplied and spread; so the Egyptians came to dread the Israelites and worked them ruthlessly. They made their lives bitter with harsh labor in brick and mortar and with all kinds of work in the fields; in all their harsh labor the Egyptians worked them ruthlessly.”
When the Pharaoh finds that his strategy of trying to put the brakes on the Israelite population by enslaving them is failing, he calls in the Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, and tells them: “When you are helping the Hebrew women during childbirth on the delivery stool, if you see that the baby is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, let her live.”
But the Hebrew midwives do not carry out the Pharaoh’s orders, and tell him “Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.”
And so Pharaoh gives an order to all of his people, “Every Hebrew boy that is born you must throw into the Nile, but let every girl live.”
At this very time, a baby boy is born to a woman of the tribe of Levi called Jochebed, and her husband Amram. In order to try to spare the baby boy from the massacre of the Hebrew children, Jochebed coats a papyrus basket with tar and pitch, places the boy in the basket, and sets it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile. Note that she doesn’t set it bobbing along in the middle of the river, as is often depicted in childrens’ books! When the Pharaoh’s daughter goes down to the Nile to bathe, she sees the basket and has her female slave retrieve it for her. The baby boy’s sister, who has been watching from a distance, approaches Pharaoh’s daughter, and offers to get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for her, to which she consents. When the girl returns with her mother, Pharaoh’s daughter tells the woman to take the baby boy and nurse him for her, for wages. And so the baby’s mother is paid to raise her own son. But when he is older he is taken to Pharaoh’s daughter and becomes her son. And she names him Moses, saying, “I drew him out of the water.”
The explanation of the Pharaoh’s daughter, in choosing the name Moses, makes sense accordance to the Hebrew meaning of the word – to be drawn out of the water. But the name Moses was also common among the Egyptians of Thebes, with the meaning of “to be born” – such as in the case of the Pharaoh Ahmose, whose name means “born of the moon-god Iah”. Whether being drawn from a river, or caught from the waters of birth, the name appears to have had similar connotations in both languages. Could it be, though, that this daughter of Pharaoh was a daughter by a Hebrew woman? Her abode was a long way from Thebes, being in the vicinity of Goshen – probably at Avaris. Unlikely, then that she was a daughter of Queen Ahmose.
There is an intriguing reference in 1 Chronicles 4:18 to a daughter of Pharaoh called Bithiah, who appears to have been both a descendant of Judah and an Egyptian – just as Joseph’s sons were part-Israelite, and part-Egyptian. Bithiah was married to a chief of the tribe of Judah by the name of Mered. 1 Chronicles 4 appears to be profiling the earliest chiefs of Judah at the time of the exodus and the settlement of Canaan, for whom many of the place names in the Judean countryside are honoured. It is entirely sensible to conclude that the woman who raised Moses would have joined in the Israelite exodus, as would her husband and children if they too were Hebrew – even if they weren’t, Moses’ foster mother seems a likely candidate to be Bithiah. The Jewish midrash identifies Bithiah as the foster mother of Moses. Indeed, her identity as a daughter of Pharaoh who also has Hebrew ancestry makes sense of her adoption of Moses, and the account of his name.
With Moses returned to the Pharaoh’s daughter, the stage is set for the drama of the Book of Exodus to unfold. A Hebrew baby is being raised in the court of Pharaoh, while his wider kin continue to be enslaved by the same Pharaoh.
There are a range of views as to which Pharaohs were ruling Egypt during the events recorded in the Book of Exodus. Famous movies such as The Ten Commandments, The Prince of Egypt and Exodus depict Rameses the Great, the third Pharaoh of the Nineteenth Dynasty in the 13th Century BC, as the Pharaoh of the Israelite oppression. This view was popularised by an exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York in the 1930s by Egyptologist Herbert Eusius Winlock (1884 – 1950). Winlock’s reasoning was due to the reference to the Israelites in the Merneptah Stele, a record of the wars of Rameses’ son Merneptah – this being the first reference to Israel in the Egyptian record. It was also because Exodus 1:11 says that the Israelites built the store cities of Pithom and Rameses for Pharaoh, and the Pharaoh Ramesses had the city of Pi-Ramesses built as a new capital in the 13th Century BC.
However, while Israel are not mentioned before Meneptah, there are many references to the Habiru, a name which closely resembles that which the Israelites were known as long before they become known as Israelites – Hebrew. Furthermore, the Israelites are dwelling in Canaan at the time of Merneptah, not Egypt, as were the Habiru in the time of Akenhaten (referred to in the Amarna letters). It may be that when the Book of Exodus refers to the supply city of Ramesses, it is using a name that the audience were familiar with, rather than using the original name of that city before Ramesses made it his capital – as Egyptologist Henry Hall (1873 – 1930) has argued. It is also worth noting that Ramesses is a very old name, which is found in Egypt well before the time of Ramesses the Great.
It seems more likely that the Pharaoh referred to in Exodus 1:8 was one of the early Pharaohs of the Eighteenth Dynasty, in the Fifteenth Century BC. Ahmose was the first Pharaoh of the Eighteenth Dynasty, and of the New Kingdom of Egypt. He successfully expelled the Hyksos dynasty, and extended the power of the Seventeeth Dynasty of Thebes over the Kingdom of Egypt to include Avaris and Lower Egypt. Joseph and his family would have likely been honoured by the Hyksos dynasty, as fellow Semites in a land of Egyptians and Canaanites. But Exodus 1:8 says that the new Pharaoh who came to power did not know Joseph.
In The Topography of New Kingdom Avaris and Per Ramesses (2011) Manfred Bietak (b1940), with reference to the work of Egyptologist Kenneth Kitchen (b1932), discusses “enormous silo installations and a large magazine of the Early Eighteenth Dynasty” built in the area. This is evidence that there was construction of the kind mentioned in the Book of Exodus happening in the vicinity of Ramesses at the time of Ahmose and his Eighteenth Dynasty heirs. The same article discusses a palatial compound of 13 acres being built in the area, most probably during the joint reign of Hatshepsut and Tuthmosis III.
The Exodus can be dated to the mid-15th Century BC according to dates and calculations given in the bible. 1 Kings 6:1 says that Solomon’s temple was begun 480 years after the Israelites came out of Egypt. The beginning of the reign of the Pharaoh who knew not Moses would have been just over 80 years before the Exodus – bearing in mind that Moses was 80 when he led the Israelites out of Egypt. It is likely, then, that the Pharaoh referred to in Exodus 1:8 was Ahmose’s grandson Tuthmosis I/Thutmose I, whose reign began around 85 years before the Exodus according to the High Chronology of Egypt.
Ahmose may have treated the Israelites well when he established Theban power in Lower Egypt, to ensure a peaceful settlement in the wake of his coup of the Hyksos dynasty. Thutmose I, who inherited the throne 45 years later, was perhaps more paranoid, a likely result of having to put down two Nubian rebellions in his first four years of rule. His constructions at the Karnak Temple Complex show his commitment to the glory of Thebes. As a third generation Theban Pharaoh ruling the delta, he would have little interest in the stories and heroes of a bygone age in that place. Instead he would look to his own power and might to ensure that he Hebrews of Goshen were kept under the control of Thebes.
View of the entrance to the Precinct of Amun-Re at the Karnak Temple Complex, from the west, with statues of Ramesses II and Panedjem girding the entrance, and the Obelisk of Thutmose I visible at the rear (The Telegraph, 2015)
An alternative view, shared by Immanuel Velikovsky (1895 – 1979) and David Rohl (b1950), is that the Exodus occurred during the time of the Twelfth and Thirteenth dynasties in the Middle Kingdom period, and that the Hyksos took advantage of the power vacuum created by the plagues and Israel’s defeat of Egypt at the Red Sea. The Ipuwer Papyrus is pointed to as evidence of this, as is the use of mudbrick in construction, or “bricks without straw” as Exodus Chapter 5 describes them. They claim that the conventional chronology of Egyptian dynasties is out of sync with that of neighbouring states, and that dynasties have been ordered incorrectly, and some made sequential when they were in fact concurrent. The Ipuwer Papyrus is alternatively associated with the decline of the Old Kingdom, after the death of the last great Pharaoh of that kingdom, Pepi II Neferkare. This Pharaoh holds the record of the longest ever reigning monarch, 94 years, and was followed by a Pharaoh who ruled only 1 year before the kingdom fell to pieces. Another candidate for Pharaoh in Exodus 1, depending on how pliable the conventional Egyptian chronology really is.
Regardless of whether the Pharaoh of Exodus 1 belonged to the New Kingdom, the Middle Kingdom or the Old, what was common in each Egyptian kingdom was that the Pharaoh was the earthly incarnation of God, or at least the authoritative mediator of God’s will to the people. Regardless of who the Pharaoh was, every reader of the Book of Exodus who knows much at all about the kingdoms of Egypt will be thinking of huge pyramids, mortuaries, palaces, temples, obelisks and statues, large armies roaming up and down the Levant and across Northern Africa, civic works of great beauty and majesty, and literary works of great wisdom. All in the service of a Pharaoh so powerful, that his people believed that it was he who caused the sun to rise and set, and the Nile River to flood.
The Book of Exodus seems to deliberately ignore the identity of the Pharaoh. The point of the book is to highlight the power, glory and will of God, rather than to draw attention to the vainglories of a king who ruled with such totalising ruthlessness. This is highlighted by the fact that immediately after introducing the nameless Pharaoh, the text freely acquaints us with the names of the two midwives who were faithful to God, Shiphrah and Puah, women unwilling to comply with Pharaoh’s orders to kill the babies. As the Pharaoh took steps to enslave the Israelites and kill their sons, open war was being declared by the god of Egypt on the god of Israel. Who the Pharaoh was, was less important than the oppressive power of the kingdom he represented, and the intention of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob to confront that power.
Jacob had gone to Egypt with God’s blessing. God had promised that he would make Jacob’s family into a great nation there, and bring them back to the Promised Land. Jacob and his descendants would have marvelled at the way in which God seemed to orchestrate events to make Joseph the Governor of Egypt, and put them in a position of sheltered protection in the most powerful kingdom of the world. But that marvel must have turned to shock and horror, as the new Pharaoh enslaved them and killed their babies. Yet there must have been men and women who recalled the account of God’s covenant with Abraham, in which God told Abraham: “For four hundred years your descendants will be strangers in a country not their own and that they will be enslaved and mistreated there. But I will punish the nation they serve as slaves, and afterward they will come out with great possessions.”
The God of Israel had set the stage for a showdown with the most powerful ruler of the ancient world. The Hebrew midwives feared God more than the Pharaoh, evading the Pharaoh’s orders to kill the Hebrew baby boys. Jochebed had more confidence in the power of God than the power of Pharaoh, and showed shrewdness that Jacob himself would have been proud of. She set up her baby boy to become an adopted son of the Pharaoh’s daughter in spite of his Hebrew identity.
The gods of our own age are less visible, but demand our complete devotion nonetheless – just like Pharaoh. Too often we allow the will and intentions of other people to have more power over us than the one who made us in his image. Too often we live to meet other peoples’ demands, make make them happy, rather than being faithful to God’s design for us to lovingly tend to his creation, and bring glory to our maker. We will too willingly compromise our integrity to please people, rather than acting in a way that pleases God. And then there is our own insatiable appetite for wealth, pleasure, comfort, convenience or individualism. We too often cower at these voices and desires, only too willingly offering our service, our own dignity, even our own children – our own flesh and blood – on their altar.
In recent news we read of Kiwi midwives being asked to partake in our own government sanctioned custom of child sacrifice. May the Lord protect and guide these precious people who work so hard in difficult conditions, to be there for us at a time of such vulnerability and need. May God inspire our midwives with that same strength of character that was in the Hebrew midwives Shiphrah and Puah all of those years ago. And may he give us all the willingness and shrewdness of Jochebed, to defy the orders that false gods make over our lives, and trust instead in the power of God.
2-Year Chronological Bible Reading Plan 