An Interesting Parallel and the Gospel in the OT

There is an interesting parallel in Exodus 2:11-21. It’s not one I have seen emphasized elsewhere, so I offer it with caution. Nonetheless, I think it is helpful.

As you might know, stories in the Bible are often arranged to highlight differences and similarities. A key example of this is the interposition of Genesis 38 between Genesis 37 and 39. At first, the story of Judah (in Genesis 38) seems out of place, like a break in the story of Joseph. When it is read in its context, it shows a stark contrast between two men, Judah and Joseph.

So in Exodus 2, there are two stories that present a contrast between how Moses is treated by two groups of people—his own (both Israel and Pharaoh) and strangers (Midianites). Notice the following chart.

Exodus 2:11-15	Exodus 2:16-22
Acts of Deliverance
Now it came about in those days, when Moses had grown up, that he went out to his brethren and looked on their hard labors; and he saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his brethren. So he looked this way and that, and when he saw there was no one around, he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.	Now the priest of Midian had seven daughters; and they came to draw water and filled the troughs to water their father's flock. Then the shepherds came and drove them away, but Moses stood up and helped them and watered their flock.
Highlighted Conversations
He went out the next day, and behold, two Hebrews were fighting with each other; and he said to the offender, "Why are you striking your companion?" But he said, "Who made you a prince or a judge over us? Are you intending to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?" Then Moses was afraid and said, "Surely the matter has become known." When Pharaoh heard of this matter, he tried to kill Moses.	When they came to Reuel their father, he said, "Why have you come back so soon today?" So they said, "An Egyptian delivered us from the hand of the shepherds, and what is more, he even drew the water for us and watered the flock." He said to his daughters, "Where is he then? Why is it that you have left the man behind? Invite him to have something to eat."
Divergent Outcomes
But Moses fled from the presence of Pharaoh and settled in the land of Midian, and he sat down by a well.	Moses was willing to dwell with the man, and he gave his daughter Zipporah to Moses. Then she gave birth to a son, and he named him Gershom, for he said, "I have been a sojourner in a foreign land."

In both stories, Moses plays the part of a deliverer, something that becomes significant later on in the story.

In both cases there are conversations which take up a relatively short amount of actual time (narrated time), but make up a large percentage of the story (narrative time). In the first story, the conversation is 63/160 words (39%). In the second story, the conversation is 71/153 (46%).*

What this ratio indicates is that Moses, the author, wants to highlight these conversations as significant, even though they would have passed relatively quickly in the time scale of the events. So he slows down the pace of the story to get us to think about this particular part of it.

It is also notable that Moses skipped many things that would be interesting to know, like where was the beating taking place, or how did the word get out, or how long had Moses been out observing the Israelites, or what exactly what Reuel’s religious role as a Midianite priest, and many other things.

Instead, Moses highlights how his own people received him as opposed to how foreigners received him. And he does it by recounting these conversations.

On the one hand, the slaves, desperately in need of a deliverer, question and reject the one who tries to help, and the deliverer flees the family structure (the Israelite community).

On the other hand, Reuel (the father of these Midianite shepherdesses in need of deliverance) questions and receives the one who tries to help, and the deliver becomes a part of the family structure.

Now, at this point, we can see obvious parallels to Christ who “came to his own and his own did not receive him.”  They desperately needed a deliverer, but rejected him much in the same way, by asserting that he really wasn’t sent by God (cf. John 5 and 8). And so Christ went to the foreigners, the outsiders, and began the church, built by Christ from people of every tribe, tongue, people, and nation through their belief in him as their deliverer.

Is this a legitimate Christo-centric meaning?

Well, I am open to being persuaded, but I am, as of yet, not entirely comfortable with it for these reason:

1. It’s not exegetical. It doesn’t arise out of this text.
2. There is no indication that Moses understood this as foreshadowing of Christ.
3. No Israelite entering the Promised Land (Moses’ original audience) would have made that connection.
4. No Israelite for the next 1500 years would have made that connection.
5. Meaning must arise out of what the original author intended his original audience to understand, believe, or do. There is no indication in this text that Moses wanted his readers to read this story and believe in Jesus. He rather wanted them to understand something about their history, that would prepare and encourage them for their future.

Whether or not it is legitimate typology depends largely on how one views typology. I won’t write on that here since it is a longer discussion on top of this already long post, but let me add a few quick thoughts:

1. Typology works by using a real experience to point to a greater, also real, future experience.
2. Moses likely was a type of Christ, identified in the NT (Hebrews 4:1-6: Jesus was … as Moses was).
3. The experience of Moses is recapitulated in Christ. Christ's experience is both similar to and greater than Moses’ experience, (but we only know that because we know the end of the story; Moses didn’t know that).
4. Israel, both entering the Promised Land and for years to come, would constantly find themselves needing a deliverer. And they would often treat these deliverers (judges, prophets, and kings) with contempt  when they came. Ultimately, they would reject their greatest deliverer, and they live in rejection to this day because of it.
5. So Moses reminds Israel, on the eve of the Conquest, that God used a man with a checkered past who was an outsider of sorts to deliver them. They hated him at times, questioned him at times, doubted him at times, and wished they could go back to Egypt. But God was still at work, never forgetting them, always remembering his covenant. And when they cried out to him, he would always show up (Exod 2:23-25). And they should know that in the years to come, God would remember his covenant, not because they were good and faithful, but because he is good and faithful.

So how would I preach this Christologically? Having told the story, highlighting the compassionate heart of Moses and his checkered background (outsider, murderer, fugitive, married-to-a-foreigner father,forgotten-for-forty-years shepherd), and having reminded us that we know God uses this kind of person to lead his people out of Egypt, I might conclude with something like this:

1. Put yourself in the place of these Hebrew fighters: How would you respond to Moses? Would you be antagonistic? Would you be receptive? Would you be arrogant and self-sufficient?
2. Put yourself in the place of these Midianite shepherdesses: How would you respond to Moses? Would you be appreciative, yet so consumed with your life you forget to respond appropriately? Would you be thankful and gracious towards him?
3. Put yourself in the place of Moses: You have a checkered past. Is there hope for you?
4. Now put yourself in the place of you: You have a checkered past. You have a deliverer. Like these Hebrew fighters, you think Jesus is an outsider, who doesn’t know what it’s like to be you. You get a little mad when Jesus comes along and shows you you can’t deliver yourself. Like these Midianite shepherdesses, you are pretty busy with your life, and you receive the blessings of a deliverer without appropriate respond.How do you respond to him?

Why is this not allegory? Because the events are real, and because I am not attempting to draw a one-for-one comparison to the story. You are not the Hebrew fighters, the Midianites, or Moses.

Why is this not moralism? Because the grace of this passage is a deliverer outside of ourselves, namely Jesus who was greater than Moses. Having heard this greater deliverer, do not harden your hearts as they did (Hebrews 4:1ff.)

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*These statistics use the NASB as its base translation.

Pharaoh and the Babies, Redux

Yesterday I preached from Exodus 1:15-2:10 where, in ancient history, a Pharaoh rose to power who believed it was permissible, not only to kill babies, but to force others to kill babies.

In his pursuit of this end, he enlisted the help of the medical profession, and then of the population at large.

Today, it seems that Pharaoh has risen again, this time in the guise of “health care” that not only finds it permissible to kill babies, but also to force others to participate in this killing.

The mandate for contraception coverage in healthcare plans does exactly that—it forces employers to pay for the killing of babies if the mother so chooses.Companies who refuse face fines of one million dollars a day.

This is an egregious act, a subjugation of basic human rights and human decency that should be immediately rejected by all humanity. It should provoke a national outcry.

But it doesn’t.

Now multiple cases are wending their way through the legal system of the United States, in hopes of overturning this mandate.

Already circuit courts have given conflicting rulings, setting the stage for a Supreme Court showdown which probably wouldn’t take place until at least the 2013-14 court docket.

Whatever the outcome of these court cases, let us make no mistake about what has occurred: Pharaoh has risen again.

Let us be midwives who fear God more than the king.

The Plagues and God’s Fame

For this time I will send all My plagues on you and your servants and your people, so that you may know that there is no one like Me in all the earth. For if by now I had put forth My hand and struck you and your people with pestilence, you would then have been cut off from the earth. But, indeed, for this reason I have allowed you to remain, in order to show you My power and in order to proclaim My name through all the earth. (Exodus 9:14-16)

Ross Blackburn in The God Who Makes Himself Known: The Missionary Heart of the Book of Exodus (New Studies in Biblical Theology), says this:

While Israel’s liberation is crucial in Exodus, the Lord’s words [in Exodus 9:14-16] make it clear that liberation is not the reason for the succession of plagues.This is not to downplay the Lord’s compassion for Israel or his remembering his covenant, but simply to say that neither of those things accounts for the manner in which the Lord overcame Egypt and released Israel. … It is the Lord’s desire to be known throughout the land that accounts for the plagues, and therefore the narrative of chapters 5-14 (pp. 40-41).

Here, I think Blackburn (in this paragraph at least) hits on something very significant with respect to the message and motif of the Bible, namely, that the plagues were not primarily about redemption but about demonstration. God was not first and foremost freeing his people. There were other, more direct, and less painful ways to do that. God was rather showing off. He was flexing. He was demonstrating his power.

And significantly, he was demonstrating his power to people who did not believe, and in fact, were never going to believe because he had already hardened their hearts (Exodus 4:21).Yes, it was designed (and cited often in the OT) as a reminder to Israel of God’s power to deliver and rule, and as a motivation for faithful obedience and worship. Yes, it also called people from other nations to faith (such as Rahab in Joshua 2). But the purpose is bigger. It was for all nations, not just one or two, to see his power. And that is perhaps one reason it is recorded for posterity.

So God was not directly redeeming anyone through the plagues. He was bringing incredible disaster, pain, and suffering in order to make himself famous and fearful.

Thus, I do not see how we can accept the idea that redemption is the main theme in light of passages like this that are only secondarily related to redemption.

The main motif of the Bible is not how God redeems people. The main story line is not primarily redemptive. It is doxological, or to put it more laymen’s terms, the Bible is about the fame of God demonstrated among all nations, through his power, his ruling providence, his deliverance of some of the people, and his judgment of the rest. It is ultimately about how God wins—by redeeming his chosen people and destroying all the rebels.

So let me put it a dangerous way that many won’t like: Redemption is a means to an end. It is not the end.

The end of all things is the fame and glory of God in all his creation. He brings about this end through a variety of means, including little things, big things, painful things, joyful things, judgmental things, affirming things, destructive things, redemptive things.

Redemption is a means by which God glorifies himself. Ephesians 1 makes this explicit.

Now the plagues can certainly be preached redemptively, Christotelically in a variety of ways. Perhaps chief among them is not to find Christ in the plagues, but to find judgment in the plagues:

“If God does this to Pharaoh in all of his power, what do you imagine he will do to you? In fact, we don’t have to imagine it. He has been gracious enough to tell us what he will do, and when He does it, you will long for the days of flies, boils, hail, darkness, and the death of one child.

But in true gospel fashion, God has provided the satisfaction of his own judgment by judging Christ, not for the hardness of Pharaoh, but for the hardness and sinfulness of our own sins. He has poured out on Jesus all of the judgment that we deserve. And by his grace he softens hearts rather than hardens them. And he calls you to trust in Christ as your stand-in, rather than standing in the face of God’s judgment for yourself.”

But notice how I did not find Christ in the plagues. He is not one of the flies. He blood doesn’t fill the Nile. The spear of Calvary doesn’t lance the boil. And he doesn’t die as the firstborn of the house.

Christ stands in relation to the text as the one who spares us from the final judgment of God, and he does it, not when we paint blood (his or any other) on the doorposts of our hearts. He does it by dying for us. We need only trust him only.

Yes, I said that intentionally: We need only trust him only.

Faith alone in Christ alone is the answer to God’s judgment. Else you face it on your own.