Tabernacle Construction Begins

Exodus 35-36

            After the interlude with the golden calf, the construction on the tabernacle begins. First, the offering is brought in. A couple of things to note: if we ask, “Where did an enslaved people get so much wealth,” the answer is, “From the Egyptians.” Remember the Egyptians people were both favorably inclined to the Israelites and desperate to have them leave and so gave them all sorts of, well, they weren’t really gifts, so call it plunder *Exodus 12:36). Second, the offering is from the willing (Exodus 35:21). Shall we assume it was a majority of the people or a minority who brought in most of the gifts? Honestly, they answer is that we don’t know. But no one was under compulsion. That matches what Paul tells us Christians, “Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work” (2 Corinthians 9:6-8). Third, the people’s generosity is more than is needed, so much so that Moses has to tell them to stop bringing gifts. There’s a lesson in there for us, too. Many churches live hand-to-fist. It would be nice if generosity for the Lord and His work was so great the churches had to say, “Enough!” Unfortunately, our world values things oddly: teachers, who prepare and shape the next generation, are often poorly paid; entertainment figures, who add very little of importance to the world, are highly paid. Imagine if churchgoers everywhere considered that the church offers everlasting life by distributing the gifts of God! How might they value that!

            Anyhow, the work begins, and the design and craftsmanship are described in great detail—again. Much of chapters 35-39 is repeated verbatim from chapters 25-28, 30-31. A few things on this detail and repetition. First, in an era when they didn’t draw pictures, the detailed verbal instructions were necessary to do the job correctly. Second, in an era in which instructions were received verbally, the repetition set them more firmly in the memory. Third, one key difference between the earlier chapters and these is the verb tense. First it was, “Do it this way.” Now it is, “They did it that way.” This highlights that the Israelites were indeed building the tabernacle exactly as the Lord had told them to. The most important thing to note here, though, the reason for the repetition and the detail and the emphasis on obedience is that the tabernacle formed the center of Israel’s life. We’ll read in Number 2 that the tabernacle was in the center of the camp with the tribes arranged around it. This physical arrangement highlighted the tabernacle’s spiritual position. At the end of this week, we’ll begin Leviticus and that complex series of offerings by which the Lord made Israel right with Him and with each other. All of that happened at the tabernacle. It’s almost impossible to overstate the function this particular tent would play in Israel’s spiritual life. No wonder, then, its construction is told in such detail! As a New Testament analogy, note that Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all spend a huge part of their Gospels relating the stories of how Jesus died and rose. When it’s the most important thing, you don’t mind retelling the story.

The Renewed Covenant

 Exodus 34

            As Moses carves new tablets to replace the ones he broke, several key elements are repeated from the previous tablets. For example, the three annual festivals, the consecration of the firstborn, etc. There are also a few new elements. First, there is the Lord’s proclamation of His own character, that He is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love. This is a description that occurs in some form at least 8 times in the Old Testament. If you ask, what is the Lord’s most basic character like, what does He default to, what’s His essence—this is it.

            One of the questions people often ask me is, “If the Lord is gracious and compassionate, why does He hate the Canaanites so much?” as, for example, His harsh words about them in this very chapter! That’s the second thing that stands out: the Lord’s judgment on the Canaanites. The separation from the Canaanites, and later the command to exterminate them, finds its meaning in the third element: the warning against prostituting themselves. Israel’s purpose was to be a cocoon of sorts for the God’s promise of a Savior. The Canaanites with their false gods would be a danger to that promise, especially if they remained in close proximity to the Israelites. Maybe change the metaphor to a surgical one: the Lord knew He needed a clean field so as not to contaminate His promise, and the Canaanites with their idols were the “germs” that needed disinfecting. Another shift in metaphor: Israel was to be the Lord’s bride, completely faithful to Him and to Him alone, and worshiping other gods was equivalent to adultery or prostitution. The Lord’s apparent inconsistency in regard to being compassionate with the Canaanites actually serves the Lord’s much larger purpose of being compassionate to all humanity.

            Allow me one last comment. Moses reflected God’s glory. His radiant face was a glory not his own. Rather it was the Lord’s glory shining off of his face. Two things: first, when the Lord instructs Aaron how to bless the people, He says, “May the Lord’s face shine on you (Number 6:22-26). It is the Lord’s desire to see His people face to face, to undo the banishment of Genesis 3. It is a desire reflected throughout the Scriptures right up to the end of Revelation.  Second, since we are only a week removed from the liturgical celebration of Jesus’ transfiguration, in which Jesus appeared in glory and Moses was there with Him: that glory was Jesus’ own glory as the Son of God. Moses is blessed unlike any other to be in the presence of the Lord, but Jesus is the Lord Himself.

The Golden Calf

 Exodus 32 and 33

            A quick program note: this blog post covers both Friday’s and Saturday’s reading this week.

            There are so many delicious details in the story of the golden calf. First, the people ask that Aaron make them elohim (el-O-heem), gods. Elohim is the Hebrew word for the God of Israel, but, grammatically, it is also a plural noun which can just as easily be translated “gods.” Couple this with Aaron declaring a festival to the Lord in verse 5, and we have to ask the question, “Did Israel outright reject the God who had saved them?” The answer seems to be, “No.” Their idolatry seems to have taken the form not of apostasy but of syncretism. Apostasy is the abandonment or rejection of a religious belief. Syncretism is the merging of various beliefs into one system. Israel seems to be retaining Yahweh, but they are trying to fit Him into the common religious systems of the day which are polytheistic.

            On the one hand, syncretism doesn’t seem quite as bad as apostasy. At least they’re keeping their own god. On the other hand, here’s what the Lord has to say about it: “I am the Lord; that is my name! I will not share my glory with another or my praise with idols1” Syncretism diminishes the Lord, and He will have none of it. He is not just one god among many; He is the only God.

            Why dwell on this? Because syncretism is the danger that we modern Christians face. Consider, for example, just the word “God.” All sorts of people say they believe in “God” (81% of Americans according to a 2022 Gallup poll). But what do they mean by that? For many of them, it’s just a poorly understood Deism, in which “God” is just some force that gives general shape to the universe, the keeper of karma, but it’s certainly not the personal God who reveals Himself and His care and involvement in the Scriptures, not the Triune God whose Son takes on human flesh and dies for our sins. In other cases, it’s an outright denial of that God. (Just because Judaism and Islam are monotheistic does not mean their God is the same as the God of the Bible. The rejection of the divinity of Jesus as the Son of God settles that.) To reduce the God of the Scriptures, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the Holy Trinity, to fit all categories and to say that they’re all the same, well, that’s syncretism and we modern Christians should think carefully about it.

            Another juicy tidbit: I love how the Israelites minimize Moses: “this Moses,” or, as the NIV puts it, “this fellow Moses.” As if he hasn’t been the Lord’s man, the agent through which He brought them out of slavery. St. Paul describes the New Testament ministry as being in “clay pots” (2 Corinthians 4:7). Clay pots were so common in the ancient world that you can still buy a 2000 year-old one for about $150. It’s pretty easy to dismiss clergy. Hollywood does it all the time: clergy on TV and in the movies are either wicked men or bumbling idiots. Somehow, it’s easy to forget that they are the Lord’s agents to deliver His forgiveness and consolation to His people.

            The Lord Himself provides another point to ponder: He tells Moses to go down “because your people, whom you brought out of Egypt have become corrupt!” Really, Moses’ people? Whom Moses brought out? Here’s a Star Wars meme for your enjoyment:

 

 

The Lord means it as some kind of test, and Moses rises to the occasion. He throws the Lord’s promises back at Him. He reminds the Lord that destroying the people will be a black mark on the Lord’s reputation and that it will mean failing His promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He reminds Him, in short, that they are not Moses’ people, but the Lord’s.

            Aaron provides a fourth detail that makes me laugh out loud. When confronted with the golden calf, Aaron says that it just popped out of the fire. Never mind that the language of 32:4 indicates that Aaron took a lot of care to make this idol.

            Fifth, the story goes out of its way to remind us that Moses has the two tablets of the covenant law in his hands. And he smashes them to pieces. It’s not just that Moses is angry (he’s that, too!). It’s a visual enactment that Israel has broken the covenant already. The punishment is terrible. Only the Levites remain faithful and they kill 3,000 people before order is restored in the camp. On top of that the Lord struck them with a plague and refused to go with them to the Promised Land. Notice He agrees to do what He said, He’ll give them the land; but He won’t be with them anymore.

            The climax of the story is in chapter 33, when Moses intercedes for the people, pleading that the Lord would go with them. That is a moment that looks forward to Jesus, the ultimate intercessor. On a different mountain (really just a hill), Calvary, God’s people rebel against Him again, nailing His beloved Son to a cross, and in that moment Jesus intercedes for them, “Father, forgive them; they don’t know what they’re doing.” Throughout the New Testament, Jesus is described as our mediator, the one who pleads to the Father on our behalf. John says we have an advocate with the Father (1 Joh 2:1). Paul says that Jesus is at the right hand of the Father, interceding for us (Romans 8:34). And, just as the Lord heard Moses’ prayer and forgave the people, so the Father hears Jesus’ prayers for us, forgiving and blessing us for His sake.

More Tabernacle Instructions

 Exodus 30-31

            Today’s reading finishes up instructions for the tabernacle and its accoutrements. One piece of furniture—the incense altar—will go inside the tabernacle; the other—the basin—will go in the courtyard. In a sense, they both have a practical as well as a religious function. The religious purpose of the basin is to keep the priests clean, which is a ceremonial not a hygienic purpose, and the religious purpose of the incense, explained later in the Scripture, is a reminder of the prayers of God’s people ascending before Him (see Psalm 141). The practical purpose is that the work of the tabernacle centered around animal sacrifice, and we can imagine that it was a smelly, messy business. The basin was literally for washing blood off the priests, and the incense altar masked the small. (Likewise, the detailed recipes for incense and anointing oil reflect the importance of fragrance.)

            One more thing today: Moses brought down “the two tablets of the covenant law, the tablets of stone inscribed by the finger of God” (Exodus 31:18). My study Bible has this interesting note: “In keeping with ancient Near Eastern practice, these were probably duplicates of the covenant document, not two sections of the Ten Commandments. One copy belonged to each party of the covenant. Since Israel’s copy was to be laid up in the presence of God (according to custom), both covenant tablets (God’s and Israel’s) were to be placed in the ark” (NIV Study Bible, fully revised, 2020). More on that tomorrow.

Setting Aside the Priests

 Exodus 28-29

            There is a certain tension in the establishment of the priestly office: Israel as a whole was to be a kingdom of priests. Why, then, do they need, well, priests? Israel’s priestly calling meant that they would, as a people, mediate God’s grace to the nations. We’ve talked about this before, that the purpose of Israel was to protect God’s promise of a Savior until it came to full fruition in Jesus. Aaron and his sons, on the other hand, were involved in the more mundane work of mediating God’s grace to the people of Israel, especially when their behavior threatened their calling. Aaron and his sons will make sacrifices to keep Israel holy so that Israel may continue in the land until the Messiah comes.

            We learn two things from the ordination of Aaron and his sons to the priesthood. First, we learn something about the Office of the Ministry in the New Testament, that is, the work that pastors do. That work is in many ways modeled on the work of Aaron. Pastors don’t make animal sacrifices, but they are called to mediate God’s forgiveness to His people through Word and Sacrament. If you distill everything a pastor does and ask, “What’s his essential function?” the answer is, “To distribute the forgiveness of sins,” that is, to keep God’s holy people holy.

            Second, we learn something about our lives as Christians. Peter names believers as a kingdom of priests, too. “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:9), and Paul says that our calling is “to offer” our “bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God” (Romans 12:1). The church exists not to preserve the promise but to proclaim the promise to the nations, to invite them to receive with us what God has given in Jesus. Just as Aaron ‘bore the names of the tribes of Israel’ on the ephod and breastplate (Exodus 28:12, 29), so the church bears the names of the world in the presence of God, praying God’s ultimate blessing for all of them.

Instructions for the Tabernacle

 Exodus 25-28

            In today’s reading, we hear the Lord’s instructions to Moses about how to build the tabernacle, sometimes identified with the tent of meeting. I would like to highlight two aspects of the reading: the purpose of the tabernacle and its extravagance.

            Let’s start with the latter: the Israelites use the best of materials and a lot of them in the tabernacle: gold, silver, bronze, acacia wood, dyed wools, the list goes on. The first ones in that list are precious even today. Acacia would have been available in that part of the world and it is a apparently a very dense, beautiful, and hardy wood. And dyes were expensive. One might ask where did they get all that in the desert, and the answer to that is in the gifts the Egyptians gave them as they left Egypt (Exodus 12:36). And the quantities they used are extravagant, too. Exodus 25:39 says they used one talent of gold for the lampstand alone. A talent is equal to about 75 pounds (16 ounces to a pound means about 1200 ounces; call it 1100 troy ounces; the price of gold fluctuates, but its five-year average is around $1500 US. The lampstand would cost about 1.6 million dollars today, just for the material.)

            The extravagance of the tabernacle always makes me think about church architecture and furnishings today. Americans Christians, especially on the Protestant side of things, simply don’t spend that much on anything architectural or liturgical. (Or, if they do, it’s likely for size of the facility more than just ‘art.’) Actually, we’re much more likely to act like Judas, who objected when Mary poured a bottle of expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet (John 12:1-6). What am I saying? Well, I guess it’s just that the Israelites didn’t ask, “Can we afford it?” Their attitude was more like, “The Lord is worth it!” Next week we’ll read that Moses had to tell the Israelites to stop bringing offerings, because they had too much (36:4-7)!

            Seriously, though, the extravagance is just a side issue. The really important thing to see about the tabernacle is its purpose, which the Lord articulates at the very beginning of the reading: In the tabernacle, the Lord will dwell among His people. Now, we modern Christians are so invested in God’s omnipresence (the teaching that God is everywhere) that we don’t understand how some space can be more sacred than other space. Typically in our day we see this in the argument that we feel closer to God in nature than in church. (I’m not sure we feel closer to God in nature: I wonder if we don’t just feel closer to our humanity. Consider this quote from Jacques Ellul, “The milieu in which [man] lives is no longer his. He must adapt himself, as though the world were new, to a universe for which he was not created. He was made to go six kilometers an hour, and he goes a thousand. He was made to eat when he was hungry and sleep when he was sleepy; instead, he obeys a clock. He was made to have contact with living things, and he lives in a world of stone. He was created with a certain essential unity, and he is fragmented by all the forces of the modern world,” The Technological Society. I think the problem is we confuse being out of touch with our humanity with being out of touch with God. Maybe less speed, less devices, would be good for us…) The point is that God is, of course, omnipresent. The Israelites knew that. They also knew that when God showed up, it was terrifying. (See their reaction to His appearance on the mountain, Exodus 20:15-19.) But the Lord God promised to be present for them, to instruct them, to receive their prayers, and especially to forgive their sins in the tabernacle. The tabernacle was the place He promised to be present graciously for them.

            God’s gracious presence: that is a point I make all the time about church. You may feel closer to God in nature, but the Lord has made no promise that He is actually present to give you His grace in nature. No, the promise that He is present is attached to the gathering of God’s people (Matthew 18:20), where especially He speaks through His Word read and proclaimed and where He is present in the Body and Blood of Jesus in the Sacrament. Because the same God who promised to dwell among the people of Israel still dwells among us today. And even though we don’t have a single tabernacle, the gracious presence of God is the same when His people gather where He said He would bless them through Word and Sacrament.

            I haven’t even touched on the furnishings of the tabernacle: the ark of the covenant which acts as the Lord’s throne, from which He talks to Moses; the table with the bread of the presence, demonstrating that God’s people dwell in His presence, etc. The good news is that we’ll have another chance to address all that next week, when we read about the tabernacle and its furnishings again.

The Conclusion of the Covenant

 Exodus 23-24

      The covenant which was first introduced in chapter 20 concludes in chapter 23. First, we have more stipulations, especially Sabbath laws and festivals. These are intended to remind Israel that she is God’s holy people. The idea of a break in their week so that a whole day is set aside for rest may seem at first blush just about rest, and certainly, there is something important for our humanity in the notion of rest. We cannot work constantly; we do need time for renewal. I’ve preached different times about that, and one of my insights is that the way we 21^st century Americans play is almost as exhausting as working. “Work hard; play hard,” seems to be our motto. The problem is that it’s not very restorative. We might find our Sabbath more restorative if we concentrated on quality meals with family, quiet walks for reflection, even turning off our electronics and spending time together with family and friends, perhaps playing games, perhaps—what an old-fashioned idea—making music together. I think those would be beautiful, humanity-affirming ways to rest. But that’s only part of the Sabbath. The Sabbath also features worship, time dedicated to being in the presence of God and His blessings. By the end of this week, we will have read about Israel’s tabernacle. Eventually for Israel, Sabbath will kick off with time in the synagogue. For us Christians, our Sabbath (Sunday), begins with receiving God’s gifts in the Divine Service. Luther has the measure of the Sabbath’s intention when he says of the 3^rd Commandment, “Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. What does this mean? We should fear and love God so that we do not despise preaching and His Word, but hold it sacred and gladly hear and learn it.”

            I want to comment on one other thing and that is the finalizing of the covenant. Aaron and his two oldest sons, Nadab and Abihu, along with the 70 elders of Israel are to join Moses before the Lord on the mountain. Before they come up, there is a sacrifice, and the blood is sprinkled on the people. In this case, that is, the sealing of a covenant, the blood sacrifice is a warning, “May our blood be shed if we don’t keep this covenant.” Notice that, at first, they are to stay at a distance. But in verse 9 they are invited into the very presence of God. Verse 11 is the important one, “But God did not raise his hand against these leaders of the Israelites; they saw God, and they ate and drank.”

            Remember that the presence of God on the mountain in cloud and lightning had been a cause of terror for the people, and later in Exodus the Lord will tell Moses that no human can see His face and live. (This is why the Lord so often wrapped Himself in cloud; it was a way of mediating His presence so that people, Moses especially, could be in His presence.) So, it is remarkable that the Lord allowed the leaders of Israel this moment in His presence. It is a moment of sheer grace. I think this incident can help us understand our worship, especially the Lord’s Supper, to rejoice that we are allowed by grace into God’s presence, a presence hidden under bread and wine. I worry sometimes that we modern Christians have lost that sense of being in the presence of the holy God, and so we have lost some of the awe that Israel had, and losing that sense of awe, perhaps we don’t perceive the grace given as clearly, either.

The First Round of Laws

 Exodus 21-22

            If we see the so-called Ten Commandments as a prologue to the covenant of Sinai, in which the Lord is summarizing what a holy nation looks like, then chapters 21-22 (and Monday’s reading of chapter 23) are further specifications about that the structure of that holy society. Hopefully we can read these laws and see that Israel is to be a just, ordered, and merciful people.

            The first topic is slavery. Our American experience is with chattel slavery where slaves are merely property forever , and it is with a form of slavery that was based on race, pure and simple. We rightly recoil at the thought that slavery existed and that the Bible seems to condone it. Our revulsion is mitigated a little by the reality that in many ancient societies people were slaves, but those slaves were not always but often treated fairly well and became people of substance. (Consider Joseph in Potiphar’s house.) So, I’m not trying to justify an unjust system but I am pointing out that not all slavery was like the American system.

            More on point today is that these laws, which allow slavery, also strive to make it more humane. Note, for example, the limit on slavery for six years. This is partly because one of the main reasons people became slaves was because they had accrued debt they couldn’t repay. Moses’ limit says that people shouldn’t pay for their mistakes forever. Similarly with the refusal to set a female servant free (Exodus 21:7). In a world in which a woman’s standing and care came from her relationship to a man as husband, father, or master, to release her without those protections would be very hard on her. Better, the thought goes, to keep her in her master’s house, where she is fed and cared for, than to release her to social nothingness with no means of support.

            The next section on personal injuries (21:12-36) is likewise interested directed toward mercy. In this case, mercy is shown by limiting vengeance and retaliation. The famous “law of retaliation”—an eye for an eye—is just such an example. It’s really saying, “You may only take an eye for an eye; you can’t take both eyes or a whole head.”

            The final section (22:16-31) continues the theme with its concerns for protecting a violated virgin and taking care of widows and orphan.

            One other thing to note is the concern for a well-ordered society. Attacking or even cursing father or mother is punishable by death (21:15, 17). An attack on one’s parents is to unravel the very basis of a culture, the family. This strikes modern Americans as strange since we see the individual as the basic unit of society, but most ancient societies were more collective in nature, and the family was what counted. The notion of living under authority, whether in the home or in a nation, comes up a lot in the Scriptures. We’ll look for another chance to talk about it more length.

At the Foot of Sinai

 Exodus 19-20

            First, we have a beautiful declaration of the Lord’s mercy toward Israel. Technically, the word translated ‘eagle’ here is probably some sort of carrion bird—a vulture or a buzzard, not a bald eagle—but the image of a bird soaring effortlessly still holds. For the Lord, all the work of the plagues and crossing the Red Sea and providing food was just…effortless. Then, there is Israel’s election, that they would be the Lord’s treasured possession. He’s not renouncing the other nations; ultimately, their redemption is the goal of Israel’s life. But Israel has a holy, a priestly, purpose. To be a priest is to be a mediator between one’s god and the rest of the people. Israel has that function between the Lord and all humanity.

            Second, there is the theophany, the visible manifestation of an invisible god. The images of cloud, thunder and lightning, a voice like a trumpet, and the shaking of the earth come back in various ways throughout the Scriptures as a way of indicating the presence of Israel’s God. Later, in chapter 20, the people were terrified by the way God chose to show Himself. There’s something important there. When Martin Luther expounded how Christians should regard the 10 Commandments, he began each explanation with reference to fearing God and loving God. Sometimes we contemporary Christians forget the fear part. When I was a child in confirmation class, I remember my teachers telling me it wasn’t really fear, but just respect. Well, I dare you to tell that to the people of Israel! They were afraid! Sinful humans (so all humans, by nature) cannot stand in the presence of a holy God. Even as we are forgiven through the death and resurrection of Jesus, we remain sinners in this age of the world. So, yes, we approach the Lord as children of a loving God and are given that access, but we also approach Him in humility as beggars before a glorious king.

            Third, we have what we call the 10 Commandments. Actually, they are the prologue to a covenant, a legal form in the ancient Near East. In this case, it is what we call a suzerain-vassal covenant, and it stipulates the relationship between a superior (the suzerain) and the underling (the vassal). The superior declares what he has done to be superior, as the Lord brought the Israelites out of Egypt. Then he declares what he expects in return, usually loyalty and here that loyalty is spelled out in terms both spiritual (no other gods, no graven images, honoring name of Lord, remembering His holy day) and moral (honoring authority, life, marriage, etc.) Eventually in this kind of covenant there are usually specific threats about what will happen should the subordinate party fail their obligations. In the case of the Mosaic covenant, we see those spelled out when the covenant is renewed in Deuteronomy (see Deut. 28-29).

            In order to understand how we are to apply these various laws, I direct you to a sermon I recently preached (the full service is here; the sermon itself begins at 29:15 and runs to 46:49). In short, we are going to have to keep in mind that the Lord made this covenant with Israel for a time, until the Messiah came, and once the Messiah came this covenant lost its force. Much of what follows in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy applies to us only insofar as it 1) agrees with natural law and the New Testament, 2) points us to Jesus, or 3) gives us some kind of example of our own life of faith. We’ll deal with the challenge of application together for several weeks, but hopefully we’ll find that it is not without its rewards!

Jethro

 Exodus 18

            The visit of Jethro is a relatively straightforward account. There are one or two questions that may bother us. For example, in Exodus 2, Moses’ father-in-law is named Reuel and here he is Jethro. But that’s not a huge problem. Even today many people go by two names. For example, both my wife and I have uncles who have nicknames that have nothing to do with their given names. Jethro’s names are interesting because Jethro may mean “His Excellency” and Reuel seems to mean “friend of God.” This tells us that Jethro was a man of some standing. We may also wonder when Moses sent Zipporah away and why. In chapter 4, she was with him on the way to Egypt. But on this we can only speculate. Perhaps he sent her away when things were dicey with Pharaoh. Perhaps he had sent her as a messenger to her father to tell him that his mission to Pharaoh had worked out.

            On a whole other topic, in 1991, church consultant Carl George used Jethro’s advice to Moses to talk about what he called “span of care.” He observed that in an average congregation, the pastor is often seen as the caregiver and often the only formal caregiver. In the congregation I serve that means one pastor is responsible for the care of 700 people. We have a second pastor, so that reduces the span of care to 350 people to one pastor. George argues the span of care should only be ten to one and that span can only be reached through a ministry of small groups. I find that very interesting, not least because of the proportion of a congregation that would need to be involved in some kind of care and/or leadership. If we do that math on Jethro’s recommendation a congregation would need 13% of its members involved in leadership (understand less as decision-making and more as spiritual care!) I don’t know if George is applying Exodus 18 particularly well, but I do find that it highlights something important about how a congregation takes care of its members.

Bread and Water and More Complaining

 Exodus 16-17

            One month out of Egypt, and the Israelites are complaining again. There complaint is really astonishing, too: “Better to live in slavery than to die free and hungry.” The ingratitude is amazing. Same thing with the complaint about water; once again they’ve forgotten that the Lord will provide.

            As I said yesterday, their discontent is understandable. Remember Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, which says that all human well-being begins with having basic physical needs met? It’s hard to have your best life when you’re hungry and thirsty. But, still, it doesn’t change the fact that they are really close to God’s mighty actions against the Egyptians and for them and it seems remarkable that their faith stumbled that quickly.

            The Lord doesn’t take it amiss. (The day will come when their grumbling will incite the Lord to anger, but that’s in their future at this point.) He miraculously provides water, and in a way that the miraculous nature of the gift cannot be denied. And He miraculously provides food, especially bread, which they name manna. ‘Manna’ is a cool word; it literally means, “What is it?” It was truly a new thing. They’d never seen anything like it before. The very name should have reminded them of the blessing it was. Of course, within a year, they were sick to death of it and had lost all sense of its wonder. Numbers 11:4-6,, “Again the Israelites started wailing and said, “If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost—also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!”

            How do we bring this forward to our day? There’s the general sense I mentioned yesterday about how easy it is to focus on what we don’t have and to lose sight of what we do have. I have a job I love and my weeks are filled with all sorts of gratifying things: making music, time with my wife, time with friends—but I still find myself longing for a vacation. The blessings become routine, and from routine they become boring, and then I want something different. We Lutherans don’t talk much about the seven deadly sins, but here’s an insight from them. The sin of sloth is not just laziness but a symptom of indifference or boredom.

            Jesus talks about the bread of life in John 6, and, when you read John 6, it’s hard not to think of the Lord’s Supper. I wonder if sometimes our worship suffers the same sense of routine and boredom that the children of Israel faced with the manna. Here is a gift where Jesus Himself is present and all the benefits of His death and resurrection are distributed and the veil between heaven and earth is thin and we are closer to God’s own holiness then any other time in our life. And it becomes routine.

            As I mentioned yesterday, we’re not so different that those discontent, complaining Israelites. Thanks be to God that He continues to bless anyway!

Singing and Complaining

Exodus 15

            I was very fortunate as a boy to have parents who took the Bible seriously. They both set an example for me on that score and also made sure that I had access to age-appropriate Bibles from a young age. In those days, probably before I was even a teenager, I remember learning James 3:9, With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness.”

            That verse is on display in Exodus 15! The first three quarters of the reading records the Israelites song of praise after the deliverance at the Red Sea (Sea of Reeds, whatever: see yesterday’s reflection…) That deliverance follows a long time of oppression, a time of intense suffering and repeatedly dashed hopes, and a totally unexpected rescue, a rescue against all hope. How else can they respond but in song?

            I think that in our day we have lost a sense of what singing is for. Singing has become in our society largely mere entertainment. We go to a concert to hear someone else sing. But singing helps us express things that are difficult to express, ranging from unspeakable joy to unspeakable woe. I watched an episode of the Netflix series The Crown last night. In it, 116 school children were killed in a landslide caused by irresponsible mining practices. The grieving parents and townspeople expressed their sorrow by singing a hymn. It gave voice to emotions they otherwise couldn’t express. Or consider Christmas. No one wants to come to a Christmas service without singing, especially familiar Christmas carols. It’s not just nostalgia; it expresses deeply held convictions.

            All of this explains why singing is so central in church. It gives voice to our faith in deep and mysterious ways. And churchly singing is not a spectator activity; it’s better when we join our voices (and, by extension, our hearts) to the song. Over the years, I’ve had people say, “But I’m a terrible singer,” and I’ve jokingly made reference to Psalm 100:1, “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord.” In a congregation full of people, the good singers support the poor singers, but we all add our voices. So, if I may: sing it out this weekend in church! No one cares how good or bad you are, and it’s good for your soul!

            The last quarter of the reading is striking for its contrast. Three days into the journey and the people are grumbling against Moses! The praises have dried up out of their mouths and the complaining has taken root. (Israel’s complaining is going to be a very common occurrence!) I try hard to explain Israel’s behavior in the best way, because I don’t think they’re much different from us. I’ve often had the experience of moving from great satisfaction to abject despair in the course of few days. (It actually happened this week!) But still—from the opening of the Sea before them to thinking that the Lord had abandoned them to die of thirst in three days—that’s pretty remarkable!

            I think of Philippians 2:14, “Do everything without grumbling or arguing.” Psychologically and spiritually, no good comes out of complaining. It just focuses us on our dissatisfaction, and that blinds us to the blessings the Lord has given. And complaining rarely stays in our minds. When we dwell on the things that make us unhappy, at some point that unhappiness is going to spill out of our mouths. At that point, complaining begins to embitter those around us.  Keep an eye out for Israel’s grumbling and complaining as we work through the story and see if I’m not right.

            In the meantime reflect on the phenomenon that James pointed out, that two such different things as praise and complaining live in the same heart. Then take St. Paul’s advice, “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (Philippians 4:8). And remember, you, too, have received a mighty deliverance from sin, death, and the devil through the death and resurrection of Jesus, a cause of unending praise. 

The Passover

 Exodus 14

            There is no event more formative for Israel than the Exodus. The word exodus literally means the road out. Sometimes it refers to the whole complex of events from the plagues to the conquest of the promised land. More narrowly it refers to the deliverance at the Red Sea. The psalmists refer to it over and over; it becomes for them the paradigm, the clearest example, of the Lord’s favor for Israel. The prophets refer to it the same way. Even when Israel goes into exile in 586 BC and begin to return in 538 BC, that act of restoration is cast as a re-enacting of the exodus. For Israel, the exodus is the Boston Tea Party, the Revolutionary War, the Declaration of Independence all rolled into one. It’s their defining moment.

            Where exactly the people crossed the Red Sea is a matter of debate. As the NIV indicates in its footnotes, the phrase “Red Sea” is more accurately “Sea of Reeds.” It’s about 170 miles from Port Said on the Mediterranean coast to Suez at the north point of the Gulf of Suez on the Red Sea. That’s a lot of territory, and it seems unlikely that the Israelites walked all the way south to what we call the Red Sea before Pharaoh caught up with them. So, most likely the Israelites crossed a smaller body of water somewhere to the north, for which there are a number of candidates.

            If that’s the case, it shouldn’t take away from miraculous nature of the event. It’s every bit as miraculous if the Lord divides the waters on a lake as it is if He divides the waters of a sea. The point is the Lord miraculously saved Israel and He completed the demonstration of His glory by wiping out the army of Pharaoh.

Firstborns, Unleavened Bread, and the Way of the Sea

 Exodus 13

            A firstborn son had a truly outsized place in ancient societies. Usually, the firstborn son was taken as a sign of the father’s vitality, the heir, and a promise that one’s name would carry on. Recall Genesis 49:3, where Jacob describes Reuben, his firstborn, as “my might, the first sign of my strength.” It makes the Lord’s choice of Jacob, the second son, all the more remarkable. Similarly, when Jacob named Judah his heir and gave the firstborn’s blessing to Ephraim. The destruction of the Egyptian firstborns, then, was truly devastating.

            But the destruction of the Egyptian firstborn was fitting. First, Pharaoh had ordered the murder of all Hebrew sons. Second, the Lord had declared Israel his firstborn son (Ex. 4:22). In oppressing Israel, Pharaoh was mocking the Lord’s strength and trying to foreclose His future. The tenth plague was a firstborn for a firstborn.

            This also explains why the firstborn sons of Israel were consecrated to the Lord. The price of Israel’s redemption was the firstborn of Egypt. Now the firstborn of Israel would be holy to the Lord. (Later in the story, the tribe of Levi is set aside for this role.)

            A second note on this reading: what is it with yeast? Another comment on the feast of unleavened bread. I often say, “They were ancient, not stupid.” I say it to remind people that ancient civilizations actually understood quite a lot about how the world worked. Apparently, though, they didn’t know how yeast worked. They didn’t know that yeast digests sugars and produces carbon dioxide which gives leavened bread its typically fluffy consistency. What they saw was a lump of dough swelling, and they apparently connected that with the way a carcass bloats. Therefore, they understood leavening, the work of yeast, as somehow connected to decomposition, to death. It’s not that yeast was evil, but it reminded them of death and was therefore excluded from holy purposes

            A final thing: the Lord did not lead them the straight route to the land He had promised. The Lord knew His people: warfare would have frightened them and sent them scurrying back to Egypt. Frankly, as the story progresses here in Exodus and also in Numbers, the people are often ready to head back to Egypt. They’re not much cut out for hardship! This will be one of the great ironies of the story: no matter how bad it was in Egypt, some Israelites thought it was better than whatever it was Moses was leading them, too. Let’s be fair, though: it’s tough to walk by faith, to follow the Lord into an unknown and frightening future.

Passover

 Exodus 11-12

             The final plague is so devastating that there can be no question about it being merely a natural disaster. “Every firstborn son in Egypt will die, from the firstborn son of Pharaoh, who sits on the throne to the firstborn son of the female slave, who is at her mill, and the firstborn of the cattle as well” (11:5). This is clearly the hand of God, highlighted by the fact that the plague completely skips the Israelites. The contrast is stark: “There will be loud wailing throughout Egypt…But among the Israelites not a dog will bark” (11:6-7).

            The firstborn of Pharaoh is one thing; he is the one who enslaved and oppressed Israel. The firstborn of the female servant may strike us as too much. We may want to ask, “Why is the Lord so vindictive?” First, we’re talking about Egypt as a whole. Yes, Pharaoh as king is considered the embodiment of the nation; but the Lord’s plagues fall on all of Egypt. Second, we may note that all of the Egyptians benefited from Israel’s enslavement and so are implicated in their oppression. Finally, all of Egypt is implicated also in Pharaoh’s order to kill the newborn boys of Israel.

            The Israelites are spared because of the blood of the Passover lamb, which becomes a sign for the Lord to pass by their homes. Looking closely at 12:23 is interesting. Until today, I assumed it was the “angel of death” who did the killing, but the text actually says the Lord Himself went through the land, sending a being who is simply named “the destroyer” into the unmarked houses. I don’t fully know the significance of that, but at least in part the Lord is not safely isolated in His heaven and sending an underling to do the dirty work. No, He is ‘on the ground.’ That fits what the Bible teaches us about our God and Lord: He is intimately aware of us. In the days of Noah, He came to earth to see its wickedness for Himself; at the beginning of Matthew, Jesus is name Emmanuel, the God who is with us; at the end of Matthew, Jesus says He will be with us always. For blessing or for punishment, our God is present!

            So much more could be said! Chapter 12 also introduces the Passover celebration. Every generation of Israelites will be connected to this one historical event. They will eat a roasted lamb with unleavened bread and bitter herbs (representative of their bitter enslavement), and they will eat it fully dressed, ready to move. Most tellingly, they will always speak of this event in the present tense: “This is the Passover of the Lord;” not, “This was the Passover of the Lord..” In the Passover, God is creating a new reality for Israel, and He will sustain them in the new reality into the ages. Applications abound into the New Testament, but I haven’t the time for that this morning. Come to Bible class this weekend to hear more about Passover, about the plundering of Egypt, about so much more!

Pharaoh’s Resolve Weakens

Exodus 10

            As the eighth and ninth plagues are narrated, I see a change in Pharaoh. He’s wavering; he’s willing to entertain some accommodation to the Israelites. He will consider letting their menfolk go. (Keeping the women and livestock is a way to ensure the men return. They’re to be hostages.) If we’re going to be accurate, though, we have to say that Pharaoh’s officials are the one’s who pushed him, not his own better sense. They’re the ones who were counting the economic cost on the country.

            After the locusts, the Lord doesn’t give Pharaoh a chance to reconsider. The plague of darkness follows immediately. This time Pharaoh is willing to let even the women and children go, holding only the livestock hostage. (Frankly, given the devastation on the land, Pharaoh probably needs the Israelites livestock.) That incident ends with Moses banished from Pharaoh’s presence. Things are coming to a head.

            About natural causes, locusts were a regular danger in that part of the world, and the darkness may have been caused by a sandstorm, also common. But the intensity is insane and to have these disasters on the heels of the other disasters, reminds us that, although the Lord may cover His actions in natural phenomena, He is the actor; He is the one directing events. 

More Plagues

 Exodus 8-9

            Two more chapters, six more plagues. Again, one could explain them as natural phenomena. A polluted Nile becomes inhospitable to the wildlife living in it and the frogs come up on the shore. Dead, rotting frogs give birth to not one but two rounds of insect infestations. Flies are a major vector for anthrax, explaining the disease on livestock; and anthrax in humans can produce boils, especially at the infection site. Thunderstorms happen.

            In each case, the natural explanation fails because of the timing and intensity of the plagues. They appear when the Lord tells Moses they will appear, and the end  when Moses asks the Lord to end them. In addition, they are intense beyond all human experience: the frogs are everywhere, in beds and in kitchens. All the livestock die. On the one hand, we can understand how Pharaoh might write these things of as coincidence, bad luck; on the other, we, as readers, know that he is dealing with a power he clearly does not understand.

            As I mentioned yesterday, Pharaoh hardens his heart first—seven times by my counting—before the Lord finally consigns him to his stubbornness. There are, however, several new elements in this confrontation: in 9:14-16. First, the plagues are meant to convince the Egyptians, from Pharaoh on down, who they are dealing with. They are meant to know that there is no god like the God of Israel. Second, strange as this may seem, God’s mercy is introduced in His warning that He could have wiped them off the face of the earth immediately and irrevocably. But, in mercy, He did not; He would rather the Egyptians know Him and honor Him. Finally, the Lord says that through the plagues He is glorified. Specifically, He says that He is showing His power and increasing His fame in the earth. (In Joshua 2, when the Israelites are entering the promised land, the Lord’s reputation goes before them.)

Magicians and the Hardness of Pharaoh’s Heart

 Exodus 7

          Moses and Aaron confront Pharaoh a second time. (This may be obvious, but I realize I’ve never explained it: Pharaoh is the title of Egypt’s ruler, not a proper name. Every ruler of Egypt would have been called Pharaoh, just as every ruler of ancient Rome was called Caesar and every sovereign of Great Britain is called King.) Anyway, Moses and Aaron confront this Pharaoh a second time and show one of the proofs the Lord had given them: Aaron’s rod turns into a snake. Unfortunately, the Egyptian magicians did the same. Since “secret arts” are invoked (v. 11), it’s possible that there was some kind of demonic power at work. There’s also a thought that the magicians’ rods were snakes the whole time; apparently some snakes can be charmed in just such a way. (I’m inclined toward the second explanation.)

          In a similar way, the Egyptian magicians replicated the turning of water into blood. Here again we have two possible explanations: the involvement of demonic powers or some kind of trickery. And again I’m inclined toward the second. I tend to think that the first nine plagues are natural phenomena, which is why it was easy for Pharaoh to dismiss them. (The miraculous elements are that they happened at God’s command and with an intensity rarely seen.)  There are two possible explanations for the Nile turning red like blood: sediment released from flooding up river or an algae bloom. Both are plausible. If we assume the phenomenon passed, then the magicians would either have to time out another, smaller case of the same phenomenon or just resort to some kind of trickery with dye.

          Because his magicians could repeat the ‘miracles,’ Pharaoh wasn’t convinced that anything extraordinary was happening and “his heart became hard.” The hardening of Pharaoh's heart is difficult to understand. In 4:21 and 7:3, the Lord says that He will harden Pharoah’s heart, which can seem like the Lord is damning Pharaoh, which seems out of character for a God who delights in humans and wants everyone to be saved. So, what’s going on? First the data:

 

Hardening Pharaoh’s Own Doing	Hardening Ascribed to God
	4:2 (God will)
	7:3 (God will)
7:13 (became hard)
7:14 (was unyielding)
7:22 (became hard)
8:15 (Pharaoh hardened)
8:19 (was hard)
8:32 (Pharaoh hardened)
9:7 (was unyielding)
	9:12 (God does)
9:34 (Pharaoh hardened))
	10:1 (God has)
	10:20 (God did)
	10:27 (God did)
	11:10 (God did)
	14:4 (God will
	14:8 (God did)

 

Notice that although the Lord said He would harden Pharaoh’s heart, in reality Pharaoh was the agent of his own hardening seven times before the Lord actually hardens Pharaoh’s heart. What we have here is the Lord consigning Pharaoh to his own sinfulness. Basically, the Lord lets Pharaoh have it his own way. It's rather like a parent who’s had enough of arguing with their child saying, “OK, do it your way.” The parent knows better, but the parent also realizes that the child is only going to learn by doing it the hard way. (Similarly, in Romans, Paul speaks of God consigning humanity to their sinfulness; cf. Romans 1:26.)

            One could, of course, say more about the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, and I may come back to it later, but let that be enough for now.

Off to a Poor Start

 Exodus 5-6

          Moses was reluctant to be the Lord’s agent, and his first encounter with Pharaoh didn’t ease his worries! Pharaoh’s statement, “I don’t know this god,” is telling. In the ancient world, gods were considered to be bound to specific places. If a nation had military victory and expanded their territory, part of the mythology was that their god had defeated another local deity and taken over that god’s territory. As you can imagine, they thought that the gods had had the real war and that the gods were the ones who had at the same time brought them victory. So, when Pharaoh is dismissing Yahweh as a god he’s never even heard of, he’s dismissing Him as a god of little territory and less consequence and he’s dismissing Moses the same way.

          Yet it wasn’t the insult to his god that hurt; it was the fact he made Israel’s lot worse. Now they not only had to make bricks for the Egyptians but also they had to scrounge for the resources to make those bricks—all while maintaining a merciless quota. Moses doesn’t seem like a man brimming with confidence (he will grow into his role), and the people aren’t buying his reassurances; they just knew that his appearance had caused them more trouble.

          I think Israel’s relationship with the Lord, especially at this moment, was probably shaky. The Lord Himself says that he hasn’t fully revealed Himself (6:3), and they’ve spent a long time in Egypt, so their difficulty is in some way understandable. Two things to think about, though: first, each of us is called to trust the Lord. We know more about Him and His plans and purposes than Israel did, but He still hasn’t fully revealed Himself to us. We are called to trust Him as children trust their parents—without understanding everything their parent do. Second, the experience of Moses reminds us that sometimes we do exactly the right thing and it doesn’t work out anywhere close to how we thought it would. This is similar to my first point: Moses (and we) have to learn to trust the Lord in those moments, especially when it seems that doing the right thing has exactly the opposite effect we thought it would.

The Call of Moses

 Exodus 3-4

            I am sorry this one is a day late: I had no internet access yesterday. 

           Moses had tended Jethro’s flocks for 40 years when he saw the burning bush, a phenomenon of curiosity but no particular religious significance. It is noteworthy that Moses approaches with his sandals on: he is unaware of an religious associations. He has to be told to take his sandals off and that he is in the presence of the holy. In Israel, that place is holy where the Lord is, and Moses is now in the presence of the Lord.

            The Lord has seen the misery of His people; He intends to act; and Moses is His chosen instrument. Forty years of shepherding demonstrate that Moses has had enough of acting the savior. He knows how badly it can go. He tries everything to get out of the job. His excuses pile up: “I’m nobody.” “What if they don’t believe me?” “I hate public speaking.” The last is the best: “I don’t want to go!” The Lord has a ready answer each time.

            Here in Exodus 3 we have an explanation of God’s personal name. In an English Bible, it’s rendered by the word LORD in all capital letters. In Hebrew it’s the consonants YHWH, which are very similar to the letters in the Hebrew form of the verb “to be.” “Who shall I say sent me?” Moses asks. “I am who I am, “ YHWH answers. The God of Israel is the eternal God, those who simply is and who calls all things into being. No small claims for Israel’s God! The pagans thought of their gods as having had a beginning and as being tied to particular territory. Israel’s God’s very name reminds us that He has always been and that all things are His.

            Ironically, God’s chosen man has failed to do the most basic Jewish thing: he hasn’t circumcised his son. It seems strange to me that the Lord only gets angry about this after he has called Moses. Perhaps in the meantime he had told Moses to get it done and he hadn’t. Who knows? But Zipporah, a Midianite, understands. Not for the last time in the Scriptures, the Gentile outsider proves more faithful than the Israelite!

Miraculous Deliverance

 Exodus 2

            There are a number of points that bear reflection in the story of Moses’ birth and exile. First, two points of Hebrew vocabulary. NIV translates that Moses was “a fine child.” Literally, though, his mother “saw that he was good.” That’s as clear a callback to Genesis 1 as we’re likely to find. Not that Moses is somehow perfect, but certainly that the Lord is beginning something new with Israel, that the story is about to take a huge step forward, and that Moses will be the “Adam” in that story. Also, the word for “basket” in Hebrew is the same word that is used for the ark in Noah’s flood. It’s used only those two places in the Old Testament. As Noah and his family were saved from the raging waters in a “box”—not a ship which sailors have control over but an ark, a box, which depends on God’s guidance, so Moses is delivered from Pharaoh’s wickedness in the same way. God directs this basket, this box, for Moses’ salvation.

            The second thing to note is the irony: Moses is saved from Pharaoh’s command by Pharaoh’s daughter, who engages Moses’ mother to raise him, and all of this right under Pharaoh’s nose in his own household. Acts 7:22 tells us, “Moses was educated in all the wisdom of the Egyptians,” preparing him well for his role as the nation of Israel’s founding father. As one commentator put it, Moses was “the redeemer of Israel, architect of its religion, consummate political leader, lawgiver, and archetypal prophet”—all thanks to Pharaoh! At the same time, we read that Moses went out to “his own people.” He never lost his sense of identity as an Israelite because he was raised by his own mother in childhood.

            Third, Moses tried to act as Israel’s redeemer on his own terms and ended up exiled for it. Tomorrow we’ll read about his reluctance to become Israel’s redeemer on the Lord’s terms. How often have we seen that already? Humans wanting to do things there own way and in their own time only to be shown how important it is to wait on the Lord? It’s the kind of lesson we contemporary Christians could stand to learn when we expect the Lord to act in our time instead of trusting Him to work things out in His time.

How Things Have Changed

 Exodus 1

            Exodus simply says, “A new king, to whom Joseph meant nothing, came to power in Egypt.” But that glosses over a lot of history! Let’s see if we can put together a timeline. (Caveat: scholars debate a lot of these dates, but this seems plausible.)

            Sometime around 1900 BC, the Pharaohs of Egypt lost influence, and Egypt was ruled by a Semitic people called the Hyksos. They governed especially northern Egypt for about 200 years. This would be the period in which Joseph rose to prominence in Egypt, which makes sense because a Pharaoh who himself wasn’t of pure Egyptian descent would be more open to an advisor who wasn’t Egyptian. This was also a period of upheaval in Egypt and the pure Egyptian Pharaohs still held sway in the south. Civil war might be too strong a term, but certainly a time of intermittent warfare.

            The Hyksos finally lost power at the dawn of the 18^th dynasty. (Ancient Egyptian history is organized around various dynasties, that is, ruling families. Much like in British history we find the houses of Tudor, Stuart, Hanover, and Windsor.) It is likely that the founding Pharaoh of the 18^th dynasty (Ahmose, 1550-1525) was the king referenced in Exodus 1:14. Let’s put this graphically

 

Date	Israel’s History	Egypt’s History
ca. 1900 BC		Hyksos “Takeover”
1876 BC	Jacob Goes to Egypt
1550 BC	Israel’s Oppression Begins	Ahmose I Expels Hyksos
1446 BC	Israel Leaves Egypt

 

            According to 1 Kings 6, Israel left Egypt 480 years before the dedication of the Solomon’s Temple (1446 BC), and according to Exodus 12:40-41, the left Egypt 430 years after Jacob migrated there (1876 BC). Therefore, Israel lived in Egypt in relative peace about 300 years, and the period of their oppression lasted about 100 years. Moses, about whose birth we’ll read tomorrow, was born about 25 years into Israel’s slavery.

            The point of all this is simple: a lot of time passed between the end of Genesis and the beginning of Exodus, and Israel’s condition deteriorated rapidly at the end of that time. Exodus is the story of the Lord freeing them from their newfound slavery.

The Death of Jacob

 Genesis 49-50

            At the end of his life, Jacob gathered his sons and gave his blessing, so to speak, to them. I say, “so to speak,” because some of them don’t seem particularly blessed. It’s kind of a blessing, kind of a reflection on his son’s character, and partly a prediction. Of note, Reuben is excluded from the birthright because he tried to claim it early by sleeping with Bilhah, Rachel’s servant and the mother of two of Jacob’s sons. Simeon and Levi are also excluded because of their violent response to the Shechemites. Eventually, Simeon’s tribal allotment would be completely swallowed up in Judah’s and Levi would never receive an allotment because his descendants would be dedicated to the tabernacle. Jacob’s words would be fulfilled (49:7). Judah, the firstborn, become the chief heir, and eventually David, Israel’s greatest king, would come from his tribe. So, would Jesus… A number of the rest of the sons’ blessings indicate something about the character and fate of the tribes that would come out of them. Joseph’s fruitfulness is fulfilled in the Exodus when Ephraim and Manasseh both receive an allotment, making Joseph into two tribes.

            I think the saddest part of the story comes after Jacob dies and the period of mourning is over. Joseph’s brothers assume that Joseph’s forgiveness was feigned and that he would take his vengeance for their earlier bad deeds now that dad was dead. But Joseph reassured them that God used even their misdeeds for the good of many. Remarkable maturity for someone from this family!

            It does get one thinking about the difficulty of receiving forgiveness. In our day, we often hear talk about how important it is that we forgive ourselves. I’m not a fan of that language. The phenomenon is there: we often bear the shame of our sin long after forgiveness is given. But the problem is not that we haven’t forgiven ourselves; the problem is that we don’t believe forgiveness was actually given. When we’re dealing with human interactions, that’s understandable: even the most well-intentioned human who grants forgiveness will from time to time still bring the incident up. They might not hold ill will anymore, but there is the reminder of our failures nonetheless. That’s why it’s important when we are giving forgiveness to one another that we understand that forgiveness contains a promise, “I will not use this incident against you anymore.” However, when we’re dealing with divine forgiveness, we have to take the Lord at His word. Psalm 32:12, for instance: “as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.” Or Isaiah 43:25, “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.” The issue here is not one of self-forgiveness nor is the issue that the giver of forgiveness doesn’t keep his promises. No, here the issue is that we don’t take the Lord fully at His word. The solution is to keep on attending to His word, especially in the holy assembly of His people and to hear over and over again His assurances that He meant what He said, that He has cast our sin so far away that it’s not even a memory for Him. That’s a gift focused in the death of Jesus, in whom our sins were swallowed up forever.