Moses: A Journey from Bondage to Freedom | Moses and God's Exodus

Hello, you are listening to Second City Sermons,

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you enjoy this sermon. God bless. Let's pray

again. Lord, as we turn to the book of Exodus,

we pray your blessing upon us, God, that we would

journey with you, not just in these stories long

ago, but in our own stories, in our individual

lives and lives, our community, that the long

journey of faith would be one, not of a distant

story, but one of our story, God. that we would

delight in the ways that you've worked with your

people, but more so than that, that we would

delight in the way of Christ who brings us through

our own Exodus, through the cross and the resurrection.

Would we delight, would we glory in you from

having spent this time together? In Jesus' name,

amen. All right, you can open up your Bibles

there to the Exodus passage. We're gonna be starting

a series. in the book of exodus for the fall

if you've been around for a number of years you

know that in the fall we can alternate between

new testament old testament and this year we're

going to be in exodus primarily looking at the

life of moses but of course it won't just be

about the life of moses um The stories that are

often centered on the life of Moses, of course,

also are really encompassing the story of Israel,

and they're not just about the life of Moses

or the story of Israel. Actually, most of the

time they're about God and His great work and

what He does for His people, both individually

and collectively. You know, we're going to consider

questions like, what does God do in the midst

of our suffering? What does He do with our doubt?

What does He do with our inability and our small

faith, our inadequacies? What does he do with

our need? What does he do with our sin? What

does he do with our failures? And yet, as you

turn to the book of Exodus, what you do find

out pretty quickly is that this book really is

often focused on this large figure, Moses, this

large individual. And so I think it makes a lot

of sense that we would maybe consider most of

the narrative texts of Exodus through the life

of Moses as a sort of a directing way for us

to take on the narrative texts of Exodus. He

is, so I read this a couple weeks back, one author

saying that outside of Jesus, Moses is the most

influential figure ever in church, not church

history, in history. Global history outside of

Jesus, Moses is the figure. I wonder what you

might think of that, maybe think of some others.

But think of this at least, all of the great

monotheistic religions, Christianity, Judaism,

Islam, they all find their beginning at least

with the writings of Moses. Think about this,

the New Testament mentions Moses by name some

80 times, refers to him actually a few more than

that. That is more than Abraham. That's more

than David. It is second only to Jesus. I mean,

even the gospel passage from Luke, right? Luke

doesn't say, in beginning with the law and going

through the prophets and the historical books,

he interpreted to them all the things concerning

himself. He's beginning with Moses, right? He

mentions Moses specifically to refer to the texts

that Moses wrote. So he's this huge, large individual

that in some ways his life is mirroring some

of the life of Israel. Sometimes it's leading

it. There'll be stories that have to do with

leadership and things like that. And of course

redemption and all these other questions I've

mentioned. But as we think of influential individuals,

it's hard not to think for me this past week

of influential individuals, that's hard to say

together, influential individuals who've passed

away recently. At the end of July, the Irish

singer -songwriter Glenn Hanser died. Maybe you're

familiar with him. I was pretty familiar with

his work. He was the lead guy for the Frames.

He was in the movie once. Maybe some of y 'all

saw that. And then actually this little duo kind

of spun off of that, the swell season with Marketa

Igloba. His funeral packed St. Patrick's Cathedral

there in Dublin and actually it spilled out into

all the streets. If you saw videos like the streets

were just full of people singing his songs and

mourning his passing because he was an Irish

emblem in a way. He actually called himself a

dub, which was to say, I'm a man. He's a, he's

a part of the people. He may have great fame

like winning an Oscar and all this, but he was

part of the Irish people. He sang their songs

in their pubs and they sang his songs in their

streets and so at his funeral Bono sang Other

great Irish figures were there leading politicians

Particularly great musicians and also Eddie Vedder

who is not Irish, but thankfully comes from the

great state of Washington, right? Eddie Vedder

and Marquetta Igloba sang one of Hansard's songs

and the name of that song was a song of good

hope. Let me read the first stanza. If we're

gonna make it cross this river alive, you need

to think like a boat and go with the tide. And

I know where you've been has really left you

in doubt of ever finding a harbor. Of figuring

this out and I love that that the imagery evokes

ireland in a way, but it also evokes like the

long struggle of life Like the long journey of

going where's the where's the hope here? Where

am I going? And yet it is titled right a song

of good hope Of course, uh dolly parton also

passed away a couple weeks ago. I'm just shy

of a couple weeks ago And you might have listened

to her music. You might not have, but as I mentioned,

as I was referring to the words of forgiveness

and peace from 2nd Corinthians, if you had an

image of Dolly Parton, it was probably one of

her smiling. I mean, she just smiled like all

the time. I mentioned this podcast that a friend

kind of mentioned where these guys at the end

of the podcast just were reflecting on Dolly

Parton. And they said that she really did just

cut through all the bipartisan stuff, right?

People would try to catch her in something. And

it seemed like she zigged when they zagged and

zagged when they zigged and just wouldn't take

it. And she was in, like I said, on this sort

of joke that there was a joy that existed beyond

the reality of all of our infighting. And I think

part of the appeal of Dolly Parton was not just

her smile, but the fact that most of us knew

that she came from the mountains of East Tennessee.

And most of us had a sense of her story. She

was the fourth of 12 children. She was raised

in a cabin without running water and without

electricity. Her father was a sharecropper and

actually paid the doctor who delivered her with

a sack of cornmeal. In some ways she embodied

sort of the American dream made reality, but

knew suffering and had this deep sense that there

was something beyond it. And of course, this

past week, Wendell Berry died on Monday, who

is undoubtedly one of the great writers of our

time. I spent a good deal of Tuesday morning

crying, reading over his poems and one of his

short stories. I did an independent study and

seminary on Wendell Berry's writings in the Port

Williams series. I can say without a doubt that

I had never cried as much reading a novel until

I read his book, Hannah Coulter, which I hope

many of you have read. But if you read him, I

think the thing that permeates his writing is

this attentiveness to the world, which means

that he's attentive to the real tragedy of the

world, the sorrow of the world, particularly

the natural world. But also there's this odd,

there's a grief that's there that is also tinged

with a hope. And he has this in his poems and

his essays, his short stories, his novels. Which

is to say that these people are all telling a

story, and they're telling a story that is true

to the world. Each one of these characters is

telling a story that's true to the world. The

story of Ireland and its oppression, one of poverty

and joy, one of attention and grief. And it sort

of begs the question, what stories are we telling

each other? What stories are we listening to?

What stories are we reciting and singing about?

And if there is one story in the Old Testament

that marked the Old Testament saints, the Old

Testament people of God, the one story that they

were supposed to tell again and again, actually,

just a couple of weeks ago, Jess mentioned when

we were looking at the Psalms, she said, again,

there's another Psalm talking about the Exodus.

Another song that recounts the story, the coming

out of slavery and oppression and hardship and

ruthless burdens, the story of Moses, because

of course the story of Moses isn't just about

Moses, the story about God, giving a true account

of this world, seeing and knowing and acting,

working through His people, hearing their suffering

cries and coming to their rescue. And so it's

a story that was told again and again and again.

I've seen some videos the last couple months,

some of them I watched a number of times of Glenn

Hansard in pubs singing the Irish songs. And

then after his passing of the streets filled

singing his songs. And of course in my own week,

I spent some time with Wendell Berry. And of

course, I would imagine many of you spent some

time with Dolly Parton. Why do we do this? Because

they're giving this account of the world, not

shirking off any of the hardship of it, any of

the bitterness of it or the suffering, and yet

in a way giving us hope in the midst of it. So

as we ourselves continue in the struggle and

continue in the mourning and the grief, part

of what I want you to see is that you continue

with the journey of God and that God knows and

that God sees. So, we turn to Moses. We turn

to Moses. Hopefully you have it open there. Exodus

Exodus 2 · chapter mention

chapter 2. And the first thing we read, verse

1, now, a man from the house of Levi went and

took as his wife a Levite woman. It seems like

a strange way to begin a story about Moses. It

seems like he really wants you to know that these

are Levites. Okay. Interesting enough. This is

to say that he was born into a family with a

mother and father that were not only to lead

God's people in worship, that was the role of

the Levites, but they were also called to call

the people collectively to remember what God

has done, to worship Him because what He has

done, to lead God's people back to Himself. It's

almost giving us a little glimpse even in that

detail of what Moses might And it's a hopeful

thing, right? Oh man, there's these faithful

people there that lead God's people to call them

back to himself. Something good is happening.

And if you go back actually to the beginning

of chapter one, not the very beginning, but in

verse seven, what we read there in verse seven,

but the people of Israel were fruitful and increased

greatly. They multiplied and grew exceedingly

strong. So the land was filled with them. Well,

the last time we had those words all together,

increased, multiplied, and filled, was all the

way back in Genesis at the end of chapter one,

when God blesses them and says, increase, be

fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth. It's

almost as though, again, right at the beginning

of this story, there's this hope. There's this

sense of, man, what God had said He would do,

He's accomplishing. The work is happening in

the world and through God's people. Then what's

the next thing we learn about Moses? We turn

back to chapter two. The woman conceived and

bore a son and what she saw, and when she saw

that he was a fine child, she hid him. She hid

him three months. Actually, then it goes on to

say, right, that she hides him until she could

hide him no longer. Which is to say that, you

know, he grew up like most people did. He became

bigger, sort of like the Israelites are becoming

bigger. And he's gaining a voice and he's gaining

a presence in the world. And for him, that might

mean death. So if we looked back at chapter one,

of course, we could read about how Pharaoh, Pharaoh

came to power who did not know Joseph. And he

looked out and he saw, oh, they're increasing,

they're growing. It says, they're becoming too

many and too mighty. They're too much. Too much

for the Egyptians. And in some ways, like Moses

was too big to hide. And Moses was hidden, of

course, because Pharaoh decides that he must

set task masters over them to afflict them with

heavy burdens. Verse 11 of chapter one tells

us. And actually, if we just kind of walk through

parts of chapter one, the words that you would

hear repeated again and again are words like

this. They were oppressed. They were treated

ruthlessly. They were slaves. Their lives were

bitter. They were under hard service. And again,

then at the end of that section, it says, they

ruthlessly made them work as slaves. So for all

the like hope that you have, oh, the world might

be coming into what God had called it to be fruitful,

multiplying, filling. What you have is suffering

and grief and sorrow upon sorrow. A life where

a mother must take a basket, her child, bitter,

ruthless, oppressed, slaves, hard service, ruthless

slaves, again and again, suffering. And my guess

is that in this kind of scenario, in this kind

of setting, the underlying question that may

be coming up again and again is where is God?

Right? I mean, finally, Abraham's promise that

he would be made into a great nation has come

about. And it seems as though even in their coming

about, they're reflecting what God had called

them to be there in Genesis chapter one. Where's

God? Does he see, does he know that a mother

can delight in her little child for a little

while and then have to put him in a basket. Of

course, this bitter suffering gets to the point

in chapter one, in the next paragraph, beginning

in verse 15, that Pharaoh calls the Hebrew midwives

to him and he says, hey, when you're helping

the Hebrews and it's a boy, you got to kill that

baby boy. We cannot have any more of them. And

just actually as a quick aside, those two midwives

are named in this text, Shifra and Pua, and we

have no idea who this Pharaoh is. Meaning millions,

literally billions and billions of people have

read their names, dignified their work, and we

don't know who Pharaoh is. Lovely little detail.

I'm gonna get back to them, but they lie to Pharaoh.

All of his people, his people, every son that

is born to the Hebrews, you shall cast into the

Nile. Throw them into the river, drown them.

So upon their suffering, upon the hard burdens

that they're carrying, right? Upon all that has

happened to them, now take their babies and throw

them into the Nile. And this is why this Levi

woman, Moses' mother, who we later learned to

be Jacobed, she takes a basket that's made out

of reeds and she dabs it with bitumen and with

pitch. And she must have carried her child, maybe

in the basket, maybe with his sisters right next

to him, walks him down to the river to put him

in the river to never see him again. I mean,

can you imagine doing that? Can you imagine that

the state of your people and the fate of your

child was so dire that you actually had to take

a basket and make sure it was waterproof to some

degree so that your child might possibly live?

Might not sink. I mean, picture with me. How

many tears were mixed with that bitumen in that

pitch? Countless tears. My guess is she had to

dab that over and over again. That's not some

passing act. Can you imagine the desperation

of a woman performing this act? And also to a

degree, can you imagine her faith? There's something

going on here. There's some degree to which she's

saying, God's at work. Her tears were no doubt

mixed to some degree. but wonder what might happen.

Maybe you can think back in your life, the last

time you shed tears of such a nature. What we're

introduced with here at the beginning of Exodus

is really, it really is one of the great questions

surrounding the world and certainly surrounding

the idea of God, right? I mean, the idea of suffering.

And the idea of does God know about this? Does

He care about this? Does He see any of it? And

it's the suffering that is not foreign to your

experience. I'm sure it's not. Of course, it's

the suffering that the Irish have experienced.

Some of you know their long stories, and it's

the suffering that people in Appalachia have

experienced. And actually, Romans 8 tells us

that creation itself, right? Think of Wendell

Berry's love for creation. Creation itself is

groaning. But so are you Some of you have quite

literally lost children miscarriage after miscarriage

or The house that we bought actually on Green

Street The mother sold it to us because her daughter

and her son died before she did So your kids

are just far off relationally and geographically

and that's the cause for your sorrow We probably

haven't actually experienced slave masters though

countless Christians have through the ages and

it begs the same question It's the same world

we are in So many of you Your tears have flown

out of the experience of your wandering in the

world like it's wondering where where am I? What

am I doing? Why am I single Why am I divorced?

Why do I feel so alone? Why does my sin persist

when I've fought it for so long? Why have friendships

been so hard to cultivate? Who are my people?

And actually Moses seems to have this experience

a little bit too in chapter two. Like if we keep

reading, this is kind of Moses' experience. There's

that, you know, little middle part there in chapter

two, the story that you probably know. of Moses

killing an Egyptian. Verse 11, right? When Moses

is grown up, he went out to his people and looked

upon their burdens and he saw an Egyptian beating

a Hebrew, one of his people. Now, if you see

that, there's actually a number there. And if

you look down, it says one of his brothers, but

it's twice said, these are his people. And he

goes out and he strikes this Egyptian down and

he buries him in the sand, he kills them. And

what happens after that, of course, is that he

goes back the next day and there's two guys fighting,

two Hebrew guys fighting, and they say, who made

you prince and judge over us? Did you mean to

kill me as you killed the Egyptian? And Pharaoh

hears about it and he flees, which is to say

at the end of that chapter, he's experiencing

the sorrow that so many of us have because he

does not have a people, right? I mean, that's

how it begins. His people, his people, and they're

like, we don't want you. Pharaoh says, I don't

want you. Leave. The last time, the last person

I was with, sorry, the last grown man I was with

who shed tears in my presence was Cyprian, who

was the pastor of the Kenya Rwandan Fellowship

that meets here on Sunday afternoons. I was meeting

with him and some of their other leaders a little

over a month ago, and he moved to Ohio. He was

here in this place that wasn't even necessarily

his home, but he'd made something of a home of

it. He had a fellowship of Christians that he

could be with. And the lack of employment opportunities

here and all invited him sort of to leave and

to go to a place that had more Kenyan Rwandan

speakers in Ohio, but he was of course, sorrowful.

Of course, wondering yet again in his life, where

am I? Who are my people? And again, we're faced

with suffering because that question is so often

the question that we deal with. So what's the

answer? What do we do with this? What do we do

with these kinds of stories where a mother take

a reed basket and dab it so maybe her baby won't

drown or moses has to flee because he's not here

and he's not there and he doesn't know where

he is or ciprian or you or i what are the answers

for such a world filled as it is with suffering

like this because you can't escape it you can't

brush it off as though it's not there So what

do you do with that? And what do you do with

the idea of God? Well, of course, one of the

answers to do with what many people do is they

say, well, God can't exist in this kind of world,

in this kind of scenario. He doesn't exist. It's

a big lie. The problem with that is that it's

still there. It just is what it is. Why are you

so upset about it? There's no hope. It's just

the way the world is. Get on with it. Another

answer that some people give is that God exists,

but He's not really in control, which is to say

we can't hold Him at fault, you know? Some things

God gets and some things God doesn't get, and,

you know, don't get mad at Him. He exists, but

He doesn't really have much say. And then I think

there's the answer that the story of the Bible

gives, which We hear really loudly actually at

the end of Genesis, the very previous chapter,

chapter 50 verse 20, where it says Joseph is

talking to his own brothers who sold him into

slavery down in Egypt. What you meant for evil,

God meant for good. Which is not necessarily

answering all the questions you might have, but

there is a mysterious reality, a divine dynamic

beyond our understanding. And I don't know, actually,

I don't believe that it answers most of our questions,

but I don't really know of a better answer. I

certainly don't think it's a better answer to

say, well, God doesn't exist. It's just the way

the world is. Get on with it. What are you crying

about? I certainly don't think it makes sense

to say, well, God doesn't really have much say.

No. Joseph's statement there, what you meant

for evil, God meant for good is the story of

Moses, and it's the story of Jesus. And somehow

it's the story of your life, the people of Israel.

Think with me of the story of Moses, because

in this story where there is so much evil, where

there's so much suffering, where no doubt there

were so many times where God's people in some

ways rightly said, God, where are you? Right?

their cries come up to him. Which is a great

question for you. Are your cries and your tears

God word? Are they directed towards God? But

think of some of the details of the story and

how often it is the case that we see, even in

the tragedy of all this, God working things out

for the good. He may have been born into a family

that loves him, but he's born into slavery, right?

And yet it does seem that the evil of it all

is worked out in mysteriously good ways. And

almost always, at least in these stories, it's

through looking at the accounts of the women

in this story, of which there are many. So follow

along with me, okay? The first women we have

mentioned in Exodus are the midwives. I mentioned

them. And by the way, they are the first of a

number of godly civil disobedience examples in

the Bible. This is the first one. where there's

civil disobedience done and God blesses it. But

it's almost done in this kind of joking way,

almost. Did you get this? I think there's actually

a little bit of humor that's intended here. The

midwives, the nobody midwives of the Hebrews

who are mentioned by name go to the great Pharaoh,

the king over Egypt, maybe the strongest person

living in the world at the time. And they say

this, The Hebrew women aren't like the Egyptian

woman, for they're vigorous and give birth before

the midwife comes to them." And with such a statement,

they pull the wool over his eyes. With that farce,

they get away with it. God deals well with the

midwives. The people multiply and grow stronger.

That's what it says. divine humor. Think of Pharaoh's

daughter. Think about this, okay? Pharaoh instructed

all his people. That's what it said at the end

of chapter one, right? Then Pharaoh, verse 22,

then Pharaoh commanded all his people, every

son that's born to the Hebrews, you shall cast

into the Nile, but you shall let every daughter

live. All his people, that's what it says. His

own daughter. His own daughter finds the basket

with Moses and the first thing that she notices

is that he's a Hebrew. Almost certainly because

he was circumcised. He has faithful parents that

are following the covenant. Divine irony. Divine

irony. Think of Moses' mother and sisters. The

sisters are there watching from a distance. And

it must have been actually a pretty good distance

because it mentions that Pharaoh's daughter and

her handmaidens were there, you know, so there

are a bunch of people there and they're probably

watching from a distance. But they're watching

from a distance and can you imagine this? I mean,

imagine, I have beautiful pictures of Lily holding

her younger brothers. These sisters probably

doted on him until he got too big and too loud.

And I guarantee you, they were filled with tears

as their mother carried that basket down to the

river. And they're probably there watching from

a distance wondering, are we going to have to

jump in the water? Is some animal of prey going

to get that basket? They're probably watching

as Pharaoh's daughter, Pharaoh who had instructed

all of his people to kill, to throw into the

Nile. Any Hebrew boy, they're probably watching

attentively. Is this going to be the time where

we have to risk our life? Because that basket

is just going to be overturned. And what happens

to them? They go down and say, hey, we know a

nurse. We know a nurse who would tend to this

child. And she responds, go, go get her. divine

protection. Of course, Moses' mother, for all

of her worry, understandable worry, for all of

her understandable tears, which no doubt there

were many, his mother gets to raise him, being

paid by Pharaoh's coffers. Divine provision.

And Raoel's daughters? Raoul's daughters live,

as so many women do, in fear of predatory men.

They're going about their daily work. They're

harassed by men, shepherds. Seems to be the norm.

Sad and familiar story. But it's in that place

that Moses comes. And Raoul is like, surprise,

how'd you do it so quickly? I'm so used to a

bad scenario, a bad story. And then one of them,

Zipporah, becomes Moses' wife and gives birth

to his son, Gershom. Divine shelter. What I'm

saying is that when we look at these women, the

midwives and Pharaoh's daughter and Moses' sister

and Moses' mother and Raul's daughter is exactly

what we hear of from Joseph's mouth. What you

meant for evil, God meant for good. What you

meant for evil, God meant for good. And it's

just no wonder that this story, that this story

of all stories was the story that was to be told

again and again and again. That when God's people

gathered together yearly around the feasts of

Passover, or when they went up to sing the songs

of the Psalter, what would they sing again and

again and again? These stories, right? This story

of redemption. This is the thing that would mark

them that they would just tell one another again

and again and again, would nourish them in their

faith, wondering, does God see and does God know?

Does He know my tears? Does He know my pain?

Does He know my trouble? Of course, this is the

very story that Jesus and His disciples are recounting

on that last Passover meal that He'd share with

them right before He goes to the cross. This

was the story of redemption that Jesus was retelling

with his disciples when he says there's even

a greater story of redemption. There's even a

greater Exodus. There's a greater slavery and

there's a greater hope that he goes to take care

of on the cross in his own suffering in the empty

tomb for our hope. God's own Exodus, his going

out, right? and himself experiencing suffering

and pain on the cross. You see, we're always

telling stories. We are, we're always telling

stories to make sense of the world and our place

in it. But for Christians in the old epoch, this

was the story. For Christians now, The cross

and the resurrection is the story. And what does

the cross and resurrection say? But God sees,

right? God knows, God acts, that the effects

of Satan's sin and death in the world will not

have the final say. That the light shines in

the darkness of this world and the darkness will

not overcome it. I hope you heard this. when

it was read. But this whole introduction, these

first couple chapters that are this great introduction

to Moses and to the plight of Israel, this whole

section ends with these words, verse 25. God

saw the people of Israel and God knew. And that

same good news that is mentioned in those verses

is absolutely the good news today. God sees.

God knows. God acts. Nothing is lost on Him.

He's working these things together in ways that

are beyond us, but He sees. He knows. I mean,

I think part of the draw to kind of get back

to the beginning of artists, great artists, great

musicians, great writers, great painters, is

they look. They seek to give a true account of

the world. Don't brush off the suffering and

the pain and the grief and the tears, all of

that. They don't brush that off. But to give

a true account of the world is also to give like

Glenn Hansard's song, A song of good hope. To

give a true account of the world is to say there's

something beyond this that our hearts and our

bodies ache for. In our family, and in my family

growing up, one of the great stories that we

would tell are the stories of Narnia. I think

many of you probably tell those stories too.

And you'll remember maybe, if you know the stories

well enough, that in the beginning of the book,

Prince Caspian, Prince Caspian is living with

his uncle, Miraz, who's an evil. And the Talimans

have sought to put away with the old stories

of Narnia, to do away with them, to erase them

from memory, to no longer tell those stories.

And in the great fortune, maybe the divine fortune,

of Prince Caspian, Dr. Cornelius is hired to

be his tutor. And of course, Dr. Cornelius is

of the old ways. And he says, listen, all you

heard about old Narnia is true. All is true.

And he had to tell those stories again and again.

And that's why we do what we do every week, week

in, week out. We tell the story again and again.

It's true. It's true. Though our sin is great,

God's mercy is greater. Though our suffering

and darkness may last, our sorrow may last for

the night, joy will come in the morning. We tell

the story of Moses. We tell the story of the

Exodus again and again. We tell the story of

Jesus again and again and again. And we sing

the story of Jesus again and again and again.

Because this is our great hope. This is the hope

of the world. God sees, God knows, God acts in

His mysterious ways, but certainly, definitively.

We rehearse the story of our Exodus. We remember

that though we grieve and we suffer and we sin,

that Jesus really did come, that Jesus really

did die. And he rose again, that light shines

in the darkness, now the darkness is not going

to overcome it. Let me pray. Lord, thank you

for your word. Thank you for the story of Moses.

Would we hide it in our hearts, and we see this

is the story of our lives as well, and of your

love for us, a God who sees and knows. Amen.

Thank you for listening to Second City Sermons

podcast. We hope this sermon has encouraged you

to worship God and to celebrate the gospel of

Jesus. Please consider subscribing to this podcast

and joining us in person each Sunday at 10 a

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Thanks again for listening. God bless.