As we head into Holy Week, we start off with the massive celebration commonly referred to as Palm Sunday. Getting caught up in the festivities, we might be tempted to think that Jesus could have enjoyed this moment of notoriety. After all, who wouldn’t like to be greeted upon their arrival into a new city with shouts of “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”?
However, Jesus knew exactly what was waiting for him on the other side of this triumphal entry…
Many of these same people would be standing by the side of the same road in 5 short days watching him drag his cross out of Jerusalem toward Skull Hill.
One of his disciples would sell him out for 30 pieces of silver. His closest friend would act like he didn’t know him.
Probably worst of all, he knew God himself would turn his back on him–the only thing he complains about throughout the entire ordeal we refer to as Good Friday.
He knew all this was going to happen before he even headed for Jerusalem one last time.
So why did he do it?
Because if he didn’t, he knew you and I would be eternally separated from God because of all those times we’ve screwed up. Someone had to pay the price for the sins of the world, and he knew it could only be him.
So he went.
I can’t think of a better way for someone to show me how much he loves me–for Jesus to lay down his life willingly for me so I can live; for God to allow the sacrifice of his only son so I can run into his arms instead. This is grace; it is Love in action.
I don’t mean to dampen the celebration that is Palm Sunday. I only suggest that we all take a moment amidst waving palm branches to ponder that Jesus’ sacrifice for you and for me began the moment he climbed onto the donkey’s back to begin his long ride into Jerusalem and toward the cross.
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Anyone still journeying along on this wild ride through Scripture in one year has most likely encountered this odd little story at the end of Luke’s second chapter–the one where Mary and Joseph lose the Creator of the Universe when he was twelve years old.
They were in Jerusalem for the Passover, which they attended every year. When it was all over, they packed up all their stuff and left to begin their 90-mile trip home. Except they forgot one little thing: Jesus.
And it’s not like they just got to the corner and quickly saw he wasn’t there–it took a full day before they noticed he was missing!
I can only imagine the uncomfortable conversation between Joseph and Mary when they realized this.
Mary: “Uh, have you seen Jesus?” Joseph: “What do you mean? Of course I’ve seen him. He hangs around my workshop all the time. He hardly ever stops talking.” Shakes his head. “Oy, so many questions.” Mary: “No, I mean today. Have you seen him today?” Joseph: “I thought you had him.”
And so on–I suspect Mary’s response to Joseph at this point may not be fit to print in a Christian blog.
To be fair, they made this annual trek to the Holy City with a large extended family group, and undoubtedly the kids hung out together and drifted between the different families. It could happen to anybody, right?
On a more serious note, after the extraordinary lengths they had to go to just to keep Jesus alive for the first couple years of his life, this must have been terrifying for these parents. On top of that, it was another four days before they found him:
When they did not find him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions.
Luke 2:45-46 (NIV)
Another day’s journey to get back to Jerusalem, then three days looking for him. They probably looked everywhere before they checked at the temple. I mean, what kid voluntarily goes to church?
When they finally found him there, they paused being freaked out just long enough to be astonished that everyone in the temple courtyard–which would be all the really smart religious leaders–was amazed by his understanding and answers. But then mom got hold of herself and asked Jesus what the heck he was thinking and how could he do this to them.
Jesus’ answer to her was as baffling to his parents as this story may be to us:
“Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?”
Luke 2:49 (NIV)
At least this little episode has a happy, if not a little confusing, ending.
It may be both tempting and appropriate to ask why this little story is here. Luke’s is the only gospel that mentions it. So why did he include it? As with most Bible stories, there are probably several reasons, and at multiple levels.
One possible answer is that it shows us it’s OK to lose Jesus. I know I did at one point in my life, when I wandered unsuspectingly into the desert only a couple years after finding myself in the verdant pastures of rebirth. I believe all three of my kids lost Jesus, but my oldest has found him again. And so have I.
It’s OK to lose Jesus as long as you never stop looking for him again.
Oh, I know, when you’ve lost him, you wouldn’t say you are looking for him. You’re looking for something, you’re just not quite sure what it is or where you’ll find it. So you look in all manner of strange places that this world has to offer. Escapism, like alcohol, drugs, sex, music. Career success. Enlightenment (how ironic that most who call themselves enlightened are often as far from the truth as you can possibly be!). Family, friends. The mall or Amazon. And so on–the list is as long as the human mind is creative and depraved.
But not all of these things are bad in and of themselves. They are just ersatz answers, cheap knock-offs of the true peace and fulfillment that can only be found in the Source of All Answers.
It’s important to note, though, that there’s good news for us when we lose Jesus, or when someone we love has lost him:
Last week I blogged about fighting the temptation to the sin of worrying, which is to say, failing to trust God. One comment I got said something to the effect of, “That’s good and makes sense when I read it–but how do I do it?”
It’s a great question, and of course, more broadly it applies to all sin. How are we to resist temptation? Easier said than done, as we all know. I should note that by writing this blog, I by no means claim to be perfect or anything close to it–God knows all too well that I screw up as much as the next person.
Nevertheless, I feel called to provide God’s guidance for resisting temptation, which in my better moments has helped me fight against Satan and resist the temptations and justifications he so freely offers me.
Let’s start by pointing out a couple key promises from God.
Since sin separates us from God, but God wants us to be closer to Him than a best friend, logic would dictate (and Paul states in his first letter to the Corinthians) that God does not want us to sin (and by the way, this is the reason He doesn’t want us to sin, not because He’s an angry, vengeful judge following us around, waiting for us to screw up; otherwise, He would not have sacrificed His only begotten Son to reconcile us back to Him by paying the price of our sin, thereby wiping our slates clean!). As Paul points out here, God will always show us a way out of the temptation.
Note that there are multiple ways out, methods for resisting temptation, some of which we’ll talk about here. There are many more, with volumes of books and articles written about them. If there’s a specific temptation you grapple with and wish you could change, I suggest you find literature directly related to that temptation, or even seek help from a behavioral health professional or your pastor.
Moving on, if we are inclined to think of God as an angry referee who has no idea what it’s like to face overwhelming temptation, we should remember that Jesus was fully human. This means He was saddled with the same human nature that courses through all of our lives. And even though the world has changed significantly in the last two-thousand years, human nature has not. This in turn means that Jesus knows exactly how we feel and what it’s like to face temptation.
OK, so how did He do it? Can we use the same methods Jesus did to fight against the evil one? YES! That’s the point of emphasizing the fact that Jesus was fully human. He had no special magic that exempted Him from temptation. The good news about this is that we have available to us the same tools that Jesus used. Granted, He used them better than we generally do, but this is what living a sanctified life means–that we allow God to transform us more and more into His image.
For one thing, Jesus modeled for us a life of a constant and ongoing conversation with God, which is to say, prayer. When tempting thoughts toward sin creep into our minds, we can (and should, as it is a sign of maturity) practice recognizing that. When we take hold of such a thought, a prayer as simple as, “Help me, Jesus, I can’t fight this without you,” may be all you need to resist the devil. Maybe not, but it’s at least a good start.
We also see Jesus use prayer to resist temptation in Gethsemane garden on the Mount of Olives right before He was arrested, beginning that horrible journey, which He knew was coming, toward torture and death on the cross. He clearly was tempted not to go through with His sacrifice–and who could blame Him? Luke recounts that He was so conflicted and distraught over this that an angel came to strengthen Him:
Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and his disciples followed him. On reaching the place, he said to them, “Pray that you will not fall into temptation.” He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.
Luke 22:39-44 (NIV, emphasis added)
“Not my will, but yours be done.” How many inappropriate actions could we avoid if we included that in our quick prayer to help us resist temptation?
Lastly, I’ll point out that the other tool which Jesus used frequently to fight the devil was God’s word. This, of course, is also freely available to us in many forms. One of the many reasons why God wants us to be immersed in His word is so we can use it as armor when (not if) we find ourselves in battle against Satan and his temptations. Whatever your struggle is, there’s a Scripture that will be useful for you in defending against those attacks. If you pray about it, God will help you find it.
The most well-known model of Jesus doing this was when He was tempted by Satan after 40 days of fasting in the wilderness, as His earthly ministry was getting started. The story is captured in Matthew chapter 4, verses 1 through 11. The evil one tempts Jesus three times, even quoting the word of God in the process (inappropriately, of course). Each time, Jesus refutes Satan with Scripture.
Last week I wrote about the holy exchanges God offers us, which are always great deals for us. Now I want to unpack one of the trade-offs that I glossed over last week just a bit more.
Jesus offers to take this sin away from us: to carry all of our anxious thoughts, all of our fears, all worries we have about tomorrow or next month or next year.
Woah, hold on a minute! you might be thinking. Since when is worrying a sin? I don’t remember seeing that in the Ten Commandments.
It’s a fair question. Without going too far down a theological rabbit hole, let me assert that anything that puts you in opposition to or apart from God is sin. And although it’s not a rule from the Ten Commandments (sadly, breaking these is far from the only way we can sin), Jesus addresses it directly in his Sermon on the Mount:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?”
So, are you with me? If Jesus explicitly tells us not to do something, I’m thinking it’s a good idea not to do it. But even setting that aside, it’s also not a good idea because it doesn’t do any good! If we think about why Jesus tells us not to worry, his rhetorical question says just that: who of us can add even a single hour to our lives by worrying?
If I had to guess (although of course I’m not God and his ways are higher than mine just like everyone else), I would say that the problem with fear and worrying is that it conveys a lack of trust in God. It’s easy for us to say we trust God, and even easy for us to believe that we trust God completely when things are going well. But what if an outcome isn’t what we wanted? Or if the answer doesn’t come when we want it? Do we still trust him then, do we still believe that his plan is to prosper us (as one of my favorite verses seems to promise)?
This is clearly more challenging. To some degree, we tend to behave like spoiled children when it comes to God–I want what I want when I want it! So God, if you really love me, you’ll do this thing for me, right?
Every good parent knows you can’t give your kid everything s/he asks (begs, pleads, cries) for, knowing that doing so takes away any chance they have to build character, not to mention the fact that we know some of the things they ask for won’t be good for them. So why should we expect God to be any different with us?
So anyway, I hope we’ve established by now that worrying, living in constant fear, and not trusting God are all counterproductive things for us to allow into our lives. But what are we to do? Sometimes these thoughts appear in our minds. But what if this happens…? We can’t help that.
But why not?
Every sin, including this one, begins with a single thought. We don’t need to remain slaves to our thoughts–we can and must capture negative or sinful thoughts the moment they occur. To have had the thought is not a sin–we can’t help what pops into our minds. It is acting on the thought, or allowing it to run wild in our minds, that leads us down the path toward sin.
Once we have captured a rotten thought, instead of allowing it to drag us down that well-worn path toward hell, we need to replace it with something godly.
Lately, I’ve been experimenting with recalling a scripture to mind, which Jesus modelled for us when Satan tempted him after 40 days in the wilderness. Or if I can’t think of one, I’ll open the Bible app on my phone and read a few verses. When I do that, I actually end up feeling glad that I got tempted since it gave me the opportunity to turn to God (through his word) to overcome the temptation. What Satan meant to harm me and destroy me, God turns it into something good. What a great plot twist!
This is one version of a holy exchange–trading a temptation for a word of encouragement and strength from God. There’s another version, which I’ll wrap up with: when we are tempted by fear or worry, Jesus offers to carry those things for us. He’ll take that baggage onto his strong shoulders.
I’ve gotten pretty good over the years at catching myself worrying and handing it over to Jesus. Of course, it’s still an ongoing struggle not to stomp over to him and yank it back out of his hands! Hey, growth is a process. I just keep reminding myself that in exchange for my troubled mind, Jesus offers his perfect peace–the shalom that King David wrote about in the 23rd Psalm:
Even though I’m not Catholic, I took up the practice of Lent (the 40 days leading up to Easter that begins with Ash Wednesday) many years ago. This is a great invitation to reflect on and prepare our hearts for the awareness of the ultimate and tremendous sacrifice by God the Father and God the Son that crashes into our story during Holy Week. The idea is that we should fast from something during this time. This could be a particular kind of food (chocolate?) or activity (watching TV), etc. It’s up to each individual to choose what to give up.
Although I have to confess I haven’t always been great about this, the idea is that whenever you consider partaking in whatever you gave up for Lent, you are to use this as a reminder of the coming sacrifice that Jesus made for us. For whatever reason, though, this year has been different for me. I have been more mindful of that, and thinking of my small sacrifice has led me to reflect more about the huge sacrifice Jesus made for me.
And here’s the thing I have come to realize: this holy exchange, as well as every exchange I make with God, is always a better deal for me than it is for God.
We’ll ponder the ultimate exchange–my sin for the righteousness of Christ–as we get closer to Easter, so for now I want to focus on this idea: shrouded in the darkness of this age, people who are not yet followers of Christ (and even some who are) tend to think about church and Christianity in terms of what you have to give up: lying, cheating, stealing, murder. These may be easy enough to avoid, but what about swearing? Some would also add gambling, dancing, certain kinds of music, dressing in a certain way, but I’m not convinced there’s a biblical foundation for these.
Anyway, the point is, when you focus on negatives like this, you miss the big picture. The Bible isn’t a rule book, it’s a love story. God wants us to be in relationship with him. The things He asks us to avoid are not healthy for any relationship. If I lied to or cheated on my wife, those actions would not be healthy for our relationship.
Also, as for most (if not all) of the other rules found in the Bible, God gave them to His people to form them into His people. If you’re reading through the Bible in a year, you’ve probably reached the part in the story of the Israelites where they were wandering in the wilderness on their way to the promised land. He gave Moses the 10 Commandments and other rules to give to the people so He could create a culture for His people that was unlike anything man had dreamed up. He created boundaries to protect their health as they moved through the wilderness since they couldn’t just pop over to a nearby pharmacy or Emergency Room if they got ill.
If I turn my attention away from the negative of what I have to “give up” and instead focus on the positive of what it means to be in relationship with God, here’s what I get in return: I get an assurance that no matter what happens to me in this life, I know I will spend eternity in paradise with my Creator and all of my loved ones who are or become followers of Christ. I get a deep-rooted peace that surpasses all understanding–shalom–even as I navigate the often turbulent waters of this life. I get the gift of appreciating people for who they are–sons and daughters of God–instead of what they can or can’t do for me, or any other sub-optimal way of viewing people. I could go on and on, but I’m trying to keep my posts brief.
So what’s the bottom line? We all should be glad to make holy exchanges with God since we always receive more from Him than we have to give up to be in relationship with Him. Thanks be to God, from whom all blessings flow!
Since I am not God, I obviously have no way to be certain, but I would not be surprised if one of the more common prayers He hears is for healing, both for the person offering the prayer and for loved ones. Nobody likes to suffer, and even more than that, we don’t like to see our loved ones suffer, so it makes sense to me that this would be a common prayer.
What doesn’t make sense, though, is the apparent absence of an answer from God. I mean, I believe in a loving, all-powerful God with the ability to do anything He wants. So why would He ignore such prayers? How could he, instead, take loved ones from us in spite of our pleas to the contrary?
It doesn’t seem fair.
I have no argument for that. I agree, it’s not fair. To say it sucks is an understatement.
There are, of course, platitudes people will offer–well-meaning people trying desperately to find something comforting to say–but that in the end crash to the floor and shatter like a china teacup. She/He is in a better place. God must have needed another angel, so He called him/her home. Blah, blah, barf.
The only thing I can think of isn’t really very comforting, but it probably best fits with who I believe the Bible tells us that God is: I believe that upon passing through death, followers of Christ are restored into some form that is healthy and fit enough to last for all of eternity. So sometimes when we pray for healing, we or our loved ones are truly healed–just not in the way we think of healing, not in the way we want. We or they pass through death and are made whole. This doesn’t help those of us left behind since we see it as that person being taken from us. But that person’s suffering is over.
I warned you it wasn’t all that comforting.
But there is good news. God isn’t willing to have anyone face eternity without giving them an opportunity to accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior. There’s underlying theology here, about how and when that choice happens, and is this opportunity presented (again) after we die, that I’m glossing over for now since that’s deeper than I want to get right now. What I’ll point to instead is the story of the vineyard workers that Jesus told in Matthew chapter 20.
Jesus’ point in telling this parable is to let us know–especially those of us who have been following Him for years and may have an over-inflated and worldly view of what’s fair–that even people who accept Him into their hearts at the last possible moment will enjoy the same benefit of eternity with Him in paradise as those of us who have been toiling away as His followers for many years. To underscore this point, look at what He said to one of the thieves on the cross right next to Him, who professed his faith in Jesus only hours before he died:
This still may not give us any comfort when a loved one is ripped from our grasp, taken away too soon. But in some small way, perhaps it can bring a measure of hope that we can one day be reunited with them in paradise.
In memorium: for Kathy. We all miss you more than we had the chance to tell you before you were gone too soon.
Have you ever run into a dead end, an end of the road that you hadn’t expected? Did you wonder when–or even if–God was going to show up to make things right?
You’re not alone. Anyone who has developed an honest relationship with God has asked a question something like, “Where are you, God? How can you let this happen to me?”
This is the way the Israelites felt in Exodus 14. They had finally escaped from Egypt, only to look over their shoulders to see that Pharaoh had changed his mind and was chasing them after all. With the full might of the Egyptian army. When the Israelites reached the Red Sea, there was nowhere to go. They were trapped. Gulp.
Of course, everyone blamed Moses, telling him it would have been better to remain slaves in Egypt than to die in the desert. Moses responded with a great statement of faith and trust in God:
“Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
Moses, in Exodus 14:13-14 (NIV)
And of course, anyone who knows the story of how God parted the Red Sea to save the day, allowing the Israelites to pass through (but brought it back together to drown the entire Egyptian army) is aware that Moses was right. But here’s the thing:
The solution to their problems didn’t come when the Israelites wanted it–they would rather have been rescued when things first started getting bad. Who wouldn’t? But this answer came years later.
This solution undoubtedly doesn’t look anything like what the Israelites would have been hoping for. But it was still a solution.
The Bible is full of stories about God coming through for His people. Life is full of stories about God coming through for you and people you know. His answers to our prayers may not come when we want or in a form we want, but they will come. We have to trust Him that where there is no way, He will make a way. It’s what He does. His ways are higher than our ways, so we probably won’t understand how He is working on our behalf until sometime later, when we reflect back on our challenges and count the ways He parted the Red Sea for each of us.
Last week we looked at some important lessons from when Moses burst onto the scene as a screaming baby in Exodus 2. This broader story, which really recounts God’s efforts to form His people into a unique monotheistic culture, has some more gems to offer. Picking up where we left off, turning to chapter 5, we see Moses and Aaron getting into hot water. To recap where we were in the story, Moses had finally given into God’s calling for him, to return to Egypt and lead His people out of slavery and into the Promised Land. Anticipating that the people wouldn’t readily follow Moses, God gave him a number of signs to perform for the Israelites to convince them that he had truly been sent by God. They finally agreed, worshipping God for recognizing their plight and sending a deliverer to them.
Sounds easy, right? They should be on their way by next Tuesday.
Well, not so fast. In chapter 5, we see that things don’t go as they had pictured in their minds. In fact, it’s a disaster. Moses and Aaron appear before Pharaoh, telling him that the Lord told them to tell him to let His people go. Pharaoh, of course, does not recognize the Lord (Pharaoh thinks of himself as divine, and obviously more powerful than the God of the Israelites since he has subjugated them). Even worse, he tells them that if they’re going to pull this kind of nonsense, he’s going to significantly increase their workload and even more brutally oppress them.
This does not win Moses or Aaron any points with their fellow Hebrews, who blame them for making the Israelites obnoxious to the Egyptians. God assures Moses that He has control of the situation and that He will deliver His people from Egypt and into the Promised Land. Moses and Aaron pass this message of assurance and encouragement along to the Israelites, but they don’t believe it.
This brings me to the first lesson in this segment of Moses’ epic story. Our world today abounds with negativity, hatred, and “doom and gloom” news. Yet there are pastors and other messengers of God who are reminding us that God is in control, that He has a plan to redeem even the most dire of circumstances. So the question is, which voices are we going to listen to? Will we listen to God’s voice, even in spite of all of the “evidence” the culture points to in order to support their assertions that there is no God or that He just doesn’t care?
Getting back into the story, we come to the famous ten plagues. The pattern repeats itself ten times where God tells Moses to warn Pharaoh that he will bring a certain plague on the Egyptians if he doesn’t let the Hebrews go, but at the same time, He also warns that He will harden Pharaoh’s heart so that he won’t let them go. (Note that this odd bit of theology–God hardening Pharaoh’s heart–is worth exploring, but it is beside the point for today, so I’ll set it aside for now). The final plague, recounted in Exodus 11, 12, and 13, is that of the firstborn sons (and livestock) of Egypt being killed. This leads to the story of the Passover, a foundational part of the history for the people of Israel, and also for followers of Christ, since Jesus draws a stark parallel between His own crucifixion and the sacrifice of the Passover lamb since both sacrifices atone (or take away) the sins of another.
This brings up the next lesson for today. The story of Passover is a story about God rescuing His people. In Exodus 12, it tells how the Israelites are to identify themselves as God’s people by marking their doorways with the blood of the Passover lamb. Jesus Christ, as the Passover Lamb for the New Covenant, told us how to mark ourselves as God’s people, how to set ourselves apart from those around us. The Sermon on the Mount is full of such guidance, but here are a couple challenging ways in which Jesus tells us how to “mark our doorways”–to set ourselves apart from our culture:
“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven….
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
Jesus Christ, in Matthew 5:13-16, 43-48 (NIV, emphasis added)
Wait, what?? We have to be perfect?
“You know I can’t do that, Dave, so count me out!” I’m glad you brought that up, because I’m right there with you. None of us is perfect, or even capable of being perfect. In our own strength.
This leads me to our third and final lesson from this part of the story: just as the Hebrews had to mark their doorways with someone else’s blood to set them apart, so too are we made holy with blood that is not our own, but that of Jesus, the ultimate Passover Lamb. It is out of that sacrifice that we are to, in a posture of humility and gratitude, try as best we can to live like Jesus and love others as He did. He knows our hearts, our failures, and yet this is what He calls us to do. This is God’s favorite modus operandi for working in this world: He sends regular people–us–to feed the poor and help our neighbors on His behalf.
God never promised this would be easy–only that He would be with us on the journey….
For those continuing to follow the blazing trail through God’s and our story, you’ve undoubtedly encountered Moses, one of the more important people in the Hebrew Testament and in the story of the people of Israel. Moses’ journey offers many encouraging and challenging messages to us, even several thousand years later. He appears in the second chapter of Exodus and dominates the story (along with God) for many years and chapters to come.
In the 430 years since Joseph had brought his father and 11 brothers to Egypt, the 12 tribes of Israel had thrived and multiplied significantly–from about 70 men (plus their families) to now about 600,000 men (plus their families, so well over 1 million people). Their rapid growth scared the heck out of the Egyptians, who had since enslaved the Israelites. One result of this is that Pharaoh (King of Egypt) had decreed that all newborn Israelite boys must be killed in order to slow down the growth of the Hebrew people. It was into this environment that Moses was born (Exodus 2). Fearing God more than Pharaoh, the midwives found ways to disobey Pharaoh (at risk to their own lives) and keep the baby boys alive. It was only because of this miracle of defiance that Moses even survived. His mother made a little basket boat for him and set him adrift in the Nile, hoping he would somehow survive the journey and end up in a good home.
Reflecting on this, that’s the first important message for you and me from Moses’ epic journey: through a series of countless miracles, God has given us life and kept us alive to bring us to where we are now, so that we may both glorify and enjoy Him.
Anyway, baby Moses is found by Pharaoh’s daughter who, like any good youngster, brings him home and asks if she can keep him (“Please, Daddy, can I? Please!?”). Like any dad, he has a hard time saying no to that, so Moses ends up getting raised like an Egyptian in Pharaoh’s palace. However, somehow along the way, he learns that he is a Hebrew. After he has grown up, one day he sees an Egyptian beating a fellow Hebrew. Moses intervenes and kills the Egyptian. Pharaoh finds out, so he tries to kill Moses. Moses runs away to nearby Midian to escape punishment. There he meets a priest of Midian, who has seven daughters. He stays with the priest, who gives Moses one of his daughters to marry. She bears him his first son, and he utters the famous phrase, that he has become a stranger in a strange land.
Meanwhile, the king of Egypt dies, but the Israelites are still oppressed. They cry out to God. Moving into chapter 3 of Exodus, God launches the plan He must have had for Moses all along. We arrive at the famous scene of the burning bush. It’s on fire but not being consumed. Moses goes to the bush to figure out what’s going on, and God speaks to him from the bush. God calls on Moses to go back to Egypt, stand up to one of the most powerful kings on the planet, and lead the Israelites out of Egypt.
Message #2: What’s special about the bush? Nothing. Any old burning bush will do–God can use any means He sees fit to get our attention.
Throughout the rest of chapter 3 and into chapter 4, we see the negotiation taking place between God and Moses. Moses doesn’t know what he will say or how he will convince the people of Israel to listen to him. He certainly has no confidence that he will be able to persuade Pharaoh to let the Hebrew people go (the Israelite slaves are foundational to the Egyptian economy). He reminds God that he is not eloquent and that he is “slow of speech” (i.e., he probably stuttered). In short, he tries to convince God to p-p-pick someone else. God refuses, although He makes one small concession, allowing Moses to engage his brother Aaron in this mission.
Message #3: Why would God choose Moses? He could have chosen a current leader of the Hebrews, someone well-spoken with a force-of-nature personality. Or He could have at least picked Aaron directly. Why pick a stuttering murderer like Moses? Because any old person will do. It’s not about how great Moses is (or is not), it’s about how great God is. If God had selected someone we would view as a logical choice, people might have been inclined to believe that the mighty deeds to be performed resulted from that person’s strength, not God’s.
What does this mean to us? That God can and wants to use us to do great things in His service as well, just like Moses. It may not be leading a mass exodus out of slavery, but that’s OK. God cares about one hurting person as much as He does about one million. If you help a neighbor who is in distress, or give a meal to a homeless person, you are helping or feeding Jesus, as He points out in the Gospel of Matthew:
“‘For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”
Jesus the Messiah, in Matthew 25:35-40 (NIV)
At the end of it all, Moses gives up his argument with God. God tells Moses he will take care of everything. Moses feels inadequate, but God fills in all our cracks of inadequacy with His power. This is unbelievably good news! As the Apostle Paul puts it:
Message #4: We should never worry that our strength won’t be enough to complete tasks God has assigned to us. He is enough. The strength He used to create the universe and raise Jesus from the dead will more than make up for our shortcomings! This is God’s version of the 10x plan for each of us!
Message #5: It’s OK to argue and debate with God. In fact, I believe He invites this level of interaction with Him; it’s definitely preferable to indifference, and ultimately leads to a deeper faith and deeper relationship. In the end, of course, we probably won’t win those arguments since we are called to obey our Creator, but He’s fine with it if we want to question what He is asking us to do.
For me, writing this blog is an example of obedience to something I believe God is calling me to do. I don’t really know why He wanted me to do this and I even argued with Him about it, but I still ended up feeling compelled to comply (“writers write”, among other things), so here I am. What’s more, I felt like He put specific boundaries around what He wanted me to say in this forum, as well as (and especially) what He did NOT want me to say (as I’ve shared before, as an example, I am not to use this forum to express my political views or other strong opinions that would detract from the encouragement I am to called spread with my words). I am often tired when I sit down to write these blog posts, but God always finds a way to give me the endurance I need to get them done.
What about you? Is there something you feel God calling or nudging you to do? Do you feel unworthy of the task? Is something else holding you back? Whatever it is, argue with God, then go do it!
For anyone who has undertaken to read through the Bible in a year, or listen to it (as with the #DailyAudioBible, which I recommended earlier in the year), has undoubtedly encountered the story of Joseph. For those new to the Bible, this Joseph isn’t the earthly father of Jesus (who doesn’t appear on stage until the New Testament). This Joseph is the eleventh of the 12 sons of Jacob (a.k.a. Israel). The saga of Joseph is important enough that it spans the last 14 chapters of the book of Genesis, beginning in chapter 37.
Joseph’s story doesn’t have the greatest beginning. Through a combination of Joseph’s arrogance as a youngster (telling his older brothers about his dreams that they would one day bow down to him) and less than stellar parenting by Jacob (in which he blatantly declared that Joseph was his favorite by making him a fancy coat–of the “Technicolor Dreamcoat” fame), his brothers ended up hating him. They flirted with killing him, but ended up selling him into slavery and told their father, Jacob, that he had been killed by wild animals.
Joseph gets bought by Potiphar, captain of the guard for Pharaoh, king of Egypt. God seems to bless Joseph, and the success he enjoys propels him to become the head of Potiphar’s household. But then everything seems to fall apart again. Joseph has become a good-looking young man, and he has also matured. Potiphar’s wife tries to coax him into bed. In a display of considerable maturity for an 18-year-old, he tells her no, saying it would be a sin against God and the wrong thing to do to Potiphar. But his reward for doing the right thing is getting thrown in prison when Potiphar’s wife lies about what happened.
Although he has a chance to get out, people let him down again, so he’s stuck in prison for several years. While there, he seems to be blessed again, to the point where he is in charge of the prison. He finally gets an opportunity to get out when he’s asked to interpret Pharaoh’s dreams. He says he can’t do it, but God can. Pharaoh likes Joseph’s/God’s interpretation and associated plan so much that he appoints Joseph to be second in command and in charge of all of Egypt.
Seven years later, a severe famine strikes the world, which Joseph had predicted in his interpretation of Pharaoh’s dreams, and prepared accordingly. And wouldn’t you know it? A couple years into the famine, his 10 older brothers show up and bow down before Joseph, begging to buy grain so they and their families won’t die. Joseph’s arrogant dream from so many years ago comes true! They don’t know it’s him yet because they don’t recognize him, but he knows it’s them.
After some time, Joseph finally reveals to them that he is the brother they had sold into slavery. Joseph is a powerful man and could have them tortured or killed. He may have been right to do so, after what they had done to him. But instead, he shows them grace. None of them deserves this–that’s why it’s called it grace. At the end of it all, Joseph is also reunited with his father, Jacob, and his younger brother, the only brother from his mother. They all move down to Egypt, where there is food. And because of Joseph’s high standing with Pharaoh, they are well regarded and taken care of.
What’s the point of all this?
Joseph could have been bitter. He could have been angry toward God and toward his brothers. As hard as he had tried, he couldn’t sustain any pattern of success, at least not by worldly standards. And for a long time, his life sucked. But instead of feeling sorry for himself or shaking his fist at God, he did the best he could in whatever situation he found himself. Since there is no mention in all 14 chapters of Joseph feeling abandoned by God, we can safely assume that he continued to trust God despite all the evidence, prolonged over years, that might have turned so many people into depressed, militant atheists.
Near the end of this epic saga, right after Jacob dies, Joseph’s brothers again fear that Joseph will retaliate for the way they had mistreated him in his youth. Joseph reassures them that he will do them no harm, telling them, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” (Genesis 50:20, NIV)
I wonder at what point during his decades-long odyssey Joseph arrived at that conclusion, that God had orchestrated the whole thing in order that the sons of Jacob, which would go on to become the 12 tribes of Israel (and the lineage of Jesus), would survive the 7-year famine that plagued the earth.
At what point in our own journeys should we take the long view that, no matter how crappy and challenging things get, God has a plan for each of us as He guides us along our winding paths, which always seem to be shrouded in a misty fog if we try to peer more than a day ahead? And how many other people will be impacted, or even saved, because we persevere, clinging desperately to the outstretched hand of our loving Savior and King?
Master's Canvas - Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter 