Having briefly introduced the plagues that the Lord sent upon Egypt, we’re going to consider them more fully this week. It’s possible to take them one by one or in groups of three (they seem structured that way) but it strikes me that perhaps the best way to handle them and to benefit from them is to look at them together, with the exception of the final plague which we’ll consider separately – its account is more lengthy and heralds the final release of Israel from Egypt.
1. God, the Sovereign Lord
The plagues that the Lord sent upon Egypt are the clearest statement of his absolute sovereignty and his utter resolve that he will indeed act to deal with sin and redeem his fallen creation. Those points are made in a host of ways in these great acts of judgement.
i) Creation moving in tandem with the Creator in his acts of judgement upon Egypt. We saw last week how the plagues were acts of uncreation, of giving to Pharaoh the fruit of his rebellion against the Lord. We ought to note in line with that the absolute control the Lord has over the creation and that the creation which is longing for its own release from bondage is, so to speak, his partner in moving that great project along.
This is perhaps underlined by the fact that, whilst the magicians of Egypt can replicate some of the plagues (the first two) they are powerless to go any further than that. The Lord is supreme.
ii) Judgement upon the gods of Egypt. In line with that, we should note that it isn’t just the magicians who are defeated but the gods of Egypt too. Many of these plagues deliberately involve aspects of creation over which Egypt’s gods were said to have power or aspects of creation that Egypt considered to be gods. But those gods are idols, worthless things with no true power. The LORD, he is God and he is God alone!
iii) That supreme control is further underscored by the continued emphasis upon the extent of the plagues – everything is affected (with some important exceptions that we’ll come to later). The whole of Egypt is condemned and judged; nothing is beyond the scope of the Lord.
iv) The hardening of Pharaoh’s heart. Pharaoh’s contribution to this dramatic reversal for his nation is truly culpable. He moves between sheer obstinacy and moments of pleading for mercy yet he never truly repents, he never takes to heart the clear message he is being given by the Lord.
And yet, while he is culpable and responsible, the text makes great play upon the fact that his heart is in the hands of the Lord (cf. Prov. 21:1). What happens, happens because the Lord purposes it to happen; he is acting in salvation and judgement with sovereign control over all that is taking place – such is his commitment to his own character and to the healing and rescue of his creation.
Now, how should all this impact us? Perhaps the most direct impact it is to have is to move us with a sense of the grandeur of God, of his majestic strength, his mighty wisdom, his inscrutable ways. In short, to lead us to worship and revere the God who is far greater than we give him credit for being, to bow before him in awe and adoration.
Here is not a God you can box up and say you have comprehended; this God, who moves in such power and for purposes of salvation, is far beyond us. We are so tiny in comparison with him. It is good to be humbled by a fresh vision of who he is and what he does.
This sequence of events should also inspire a sense of confidence within our hearts – here is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, acting to rescue, acting in fulfilment of his promises. Such passages evoke not simply awe in us but awaken trust and stimulate faith. He is worthy of our trust; we can venture for him – as William Carey so helpfully put it, “expect great things from God; attempt great things for God.”
2. God, the Particular Lord
One of the peculiar and puzzling aspects of the plagues is that fact that some of them are also experienced by the people of Israel whilst others are not (they experience the suffering caused by the first 3 plagues – blood, frogs and gnats – and also the locusts).
Given what we have seen of the absolute sovereignty of the Lord, the question has to be asked, ‘Why he does not spare his people from all the effects of every plague?’ If he could spare them some, then why not spare them all? If it isn’t a case of ‘could not’, why would he not do so?
The only answer that seems reasonable is that the Lord chose to allow his people to experience something of what the Egyptians were suffering as a result of Pharaoh’s sin in refusing to let them go. And such experiences would no doubt speak powerfully to them of the true nature of sin and its bitter harvest, as well as humbling their hearts (they were not all that different to the Egyptians).
Can we not also say the same about our experiences of the sufferings of this life? If the Lord can spare us all sickness and disaster, why does he not? In his own time, he certainly will do so – there will be no sorrow in the new heavens and earth – but in these interim times, suffering is indeed a reminder to us of the broken state of this world.
It keeps us humble; it keeps us trusting; it keeps us looking forward to the return of Jesus. And it fosters within us a sense of compassion toward those who are still far from the Lord.
3. Plagues: A call to repent
Clearly, the ten plagues that the Lord sent upon Egypt to make Pharaoh release his people (and so to further his saving purposes for the world) were a unique event. All through the OT, the people of Israel looked back to the time when the Lord acted in such power on their behalf and took great encouragement from that.
And yet, we can also see in the scriptures deliberate allusions to the plagues that show them as setting a pattern for the Lord’s dealings with the world. In particular, I think we can see this happening in the book of Revelation.
There, the apostle John sees visions of great cataclysms coming upon the world following the ascension of Jesus to his place of authority at the right hand of God.
Those events recall the plagues in Egypt but with an important qualifier in terms of the earlier events: they do not afflict the whole earth; a great stress is laid on the fact that only a third of the earth is to be afflicted. That limitation is ultimately removed when the great final acts of judgement are unveiled.
What does this linkage with the plagues of Egypt say to us? It clearly shows the continuity of the purposes of God, that what took place in Egypt was one phase of the great work of rescue that is ultimately seen as fulfilled in the book of Revelation.
But what I want to particularly mention in terms of the use of plague imagery in Revelation is the emphasis on the opportunity to repent that the plagues present – an opportunity squandered by Pharaoh, to the tragic loss of his people; and an opportunity that is also allowed to slip away by those described in John’s vision (see Rev. 9:20ff).
We live in a world of suffering and decay, a world in which the Lord speaks powerfully through his word and also through his actions in history. I want to ask you this morning: have you heard that voice, calling you to repent? Have you taken the opportunity his grace is giving you to turn back to him, now, before the ultimate tragedy befalls you?
Look around and see what is happening. See the distress and the decay; take note of the hardness and hostility which arouses God’s anger; and humble your heart to receive salvation from Jesus, the Lamb of God who died to take away sin.
Wednesday, 28 June 2006
Thursday, 22 June 2006
I wear your ring
with memory strong
and clear;
stronger than a link
with your past,
my present
holds your life and love.
I wash my hands
and feel it there;
it sometimes seems that I am you
and that you are still.
I raise my hand
with silent shock
at the sight of your finger;
I am not you and yet
you remain
in memory and chromosome
and intangible touch.
I take and eat
the bread and wine
given by Another,
tasting and touching
beyond time,
memories brought to birth
of life before my own.
Tasting love, touching grace;
a life and grief
observed, redeemed.
I wear your ring;
I bear his name.
and clear;
stronger than a link
with your past,
my present
holds your life and love.
I wash my hands
and feel it there;
it sometimes seems that I am you
and that you are still.
I raise my hand
with silent shock
at the sight of your finger;
I am not you and yet
you remain
in memory and chromosome
and intangible touch.
I take and eat
the bread and wine
given by Another,
tasting and touching
beyond time,
memories brought to birth
of life before my own.
Tasting love, touching grace;
a life and grief
observed, redeemed.
I wear your ring;
I bear his name.
Wednesday, 21 June 2006
Exodus 7:8-13
Whatever you think of boxing as a sport, the build-up to big fights are very much a part of the action, what with press conferences, weigh-ins and so on. But for all that, when the bell goes and it’s seconds out, that’s when the real action begins.
It’s much the same here in Exodus. There has been a lot of sparring going on up to this point – Moses has been prepared by the Lord; he and Aaron have had a run-in with Pharaoh but from 7:8 it’s “seconds out, round one”.
1. Clash of the gods
When Moses and Aaron enter Pharaoh’s presence, we are seeing the clash not of two earthly civilisations but the Lord of heaven and earth addressing all the forces of sin and chaos through his servants. Pharaoh stands as the representative of the kingdom of darkness and even his garments and the whole architecture and art of his palace show whose side he is on.
But that is not simply the case in words and signs; one of the most startling aspects of this scene is the ability of the Egyptian wise men and sorcerers to replicate what has just happened to Aaron’s staff. That is something we will also see with the first two plagues of turning the water to blood and causing the land to teem with frogs.
Here is a real power; an ugly and destructive power, the power of evil, the settled opposition of evil to the will and ways of God.
When Moses and Aaron confront Pharaoh, it is not the coming together of diplomats but it is the clash of kingdoms, it is the engaging of the battle between the kingdom of light and the kingdom of darkness. This is the bedrock truth of life in this world – we are engaged in a spiritual battle between the one true God, revealed in Jesus, and all that stands opposed to him and to life itself.
Scripture beings that before us in all its clarity not to scare us but to ensure we know what we’re facing, what we’re engaging in.
Much of the reality of it may well be hidden from our view – we see flesh and blood, we don’t see the rulers, the authorities, the powers of this dark world, the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly realms and we should not go looking to try to see it.
But when we see flesh and blood opposing the Lord and his gospel in all the variety of ways that can occur, we need to remember that we are not ultimately wrestling against flesh and blood but against those unseen forces.
2. Counterfeit power is real but can’t last
The power that the Egyptians possess is real and we need to accept that. But there is a real difference between Aaron and Moses and the magicians of Pharaoh: Aaron’s staff becomes a snake not through any use of ‘secret arts’ on their part but simply as they obey the Lord.
You see, there is power and there is counterfeit power; there is power and there is usurped power. Pharaoh and his men stand as symbols and representatives of all that is evil; as such, their power, although real, is counterfeit and usurped.
And the good news of this scene is that all such power, however real, is destined to be overthrown. It cannot last. Although by their secret arts these men can make a staff into a snake, their snake is immediately swallowed up by the snake that was Aaron’s staff.
The doom of the Egyptians, the doom of Satan, is writ large here, is graphically seen in the swallowing of the snakes. In fact, that term is going to be used once more in this book, in 15:12, where it is reported that the earth has swallowed the Egyptian army and the Lord’s victory is complete.
There is an important lesson for us in this scene. The power of sin is real; evil is not to be treated as though it was a minor irritation. But at the same time, it is not to be given too much attention; it is not to be given too much credence. It is doomed; it is passing. Jesus has gained the victory through his cross and resurrection. There is hope for the world, there is release from bondage through the Son of God!
That should give us great heart for our lives as Christians in a world that is hostile to the Lord. We face a powerful foe, the enemy of our souls, but Jesus is stronger, much stronger, and his victory is a complete one.
It should also give us great heart in our evangelism – the god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers but he is not the absolute ruler he’d like to be; Jesus is Lord and his gospel message is strong and powerful to save.
3. The Plagues: Creation & Uncreation; Reaping & Sowing
Now, this little section is a kind-of prologue to the plagues – the snake-swallowing is a sign to Pharaoh but the plagues that follow will go beyond signs; they will be the enactment of the Lord’s judgement on Egypt.
We won’t deal with the plagues in detail today (do I hear cheers?) but I do just want to highlight one of the issues that is going on throughout all the plagues.
Pharaoh has been oppressing the people of Israel, acting in ways that are contrary to God’s purposes in creation and opposing the Lord’s purpose to redeem Israel in order to redeem the world. As we have seen, he stands as an anti-God character in this whole story and as such is anti-creation. How will the Lord deal with him?
The plagues that the Lord sends upon Egypt show the Lord’s control over creation but they do so by bringing upon Egypt the terrors of ‘uncreation’ and chaos, of creation gone awry, of decay and death.
There is nothing accidental or random about the Lord’s choice of these plagues. This is showing Pharaoh and Egypt not only that it is the Lord who controls all creation but that the bitter fruit of rebellion against the Lord, the bitter harvest of sin and evil is that it will reap what it sows. It is bent on twisting and distorting what the Lord has made and what the Lord is doing and so it will reap the whirlwind of uncreation and chaos.
This is a principle that runs all the way through scripture – people reap what they sow. Those who do not want to know the Lord will be forever excluded from his presence; those who act against the Lord and his creation will suffer the consequences eternally. Their choice will be seen for what it is.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Even now, Pharaoh could take note of what has just happened and change his mind, humble his heart and let the Lord’s people go. But he does not and he will not. Whilst there are issues there over the Lord working out his own saving purposes for creation through the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, it nevertheless remains true that Pharaoh stands responsible before God for his choices. And they are deadly.
The same is true when the gospel is heard today.
It’s much the same here in Exodus. There has been a lot of sparring going on up to this point – Moses has been prepared by the Lord; he and Aaron have had a run-in with Pharaoh but from 7:8 it’s “seconds out, round one”.
1. Clash of the gods
When Moses and Aaron enter Pharaoh’s presence, we are seeing the clash not of two earthly civilisations but the Lord of heaven and earth addressing all the forces of sin and chaos through his servants. Pharaoh stands as the representative of the kingdom of darkness and even his garments and the whole architecture and art of his palace show whose side he is on.
But that is not simply the case in words and signs; one of the most startling aspects of this scene is the ability of the Egyptian wise men and sorcerers to replicate what has just happened to Aaron’s staff. That is something we will also see with the first two plagues of turning the water to blood and causing the land to teem with frogs.
Here is a real power; an ugly and destructive power, the power of evil, the settled opposition of evil to the will and ways of God.
When Moses and Aaron confront Pharaoh, it is not the coming together of diplomats but it is the clash of kingdoms, it is the engaging of the battle between the kingdom of light and the kingdom of darkness. This is the bedrock truth of life in this world – we are engaged in a spiritual battle between the one true God, revealed in Jesus, and all that stands opposed to him and to life itself.
Scripture beings that before us in all its clarity not to scare us but to ensure we know what we’re facing, what we’re engaging in.
Much of the reality of it may well be hidden from our view – we see flesh and blood, we don’t see the rulers, the authorities, the powers of this dark world, the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly realms and we should not go looking to try to see it.
But when we see flesh and blood opposing the Lord and his gospel in all the variety of ways that can occur, we need to remember that we are not ultimately wrestling against flesh and blood but against those unseen forces.
2. Counterfeit power is real but can’t last
The power that the Egyptians possess is real and we need to accept that. But there is a real difference between Aaron and Moses and the magicians of Pharaoh: Aaron’s staff becomes a snake not through any use of ‘secret arts’ on their part but simply as they obey the Lord.
You see, there is power and there is counterfeit power; there is power and there is usurped power. Pharaoh and his men stand as symbols and representatives of all that is evil; as such, their power, although real, is counterfeit and usurped.
And the good news of this scene is that all such power, however real, is destined to be overthrown. It cannot last. Although by their secret arts these men can make a staff into a snake, their snake is immediately swallowed up by the snake that was Aaron’s staff.
The doom of the Egyptians, the doom of Satan, is writ large here, is graphically seen in the swallowing of the snakes. In fact, that term is going to be used once more in this book, in 15:12, where it is reported that the earth has swallowed the Egyptian army and the Lord’s victory is complete.
There is an important lesson for us in this scene. The power of sin is real; evil is not to be treated as though it was a minor irritation. But at the same time, it is not to be given too much attention; it is not to be given too much credence. It is doomed; it is passing. Jesus has gained the victory through his cross and resurrection. There is hope for the world, there is release from bondage through the Son of God!
That should give us great heart for our lives as Christians in a world that is hostile to the Lord. We face a powerful foe, the enemy of our souls, but Jesus is stronger, much stronger, and his victory is a complete one.
It should also give us great heart in our evangelism – the god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers but he is not the absolute ruler he’d like to be; Jesus is Lord and his gospel message is strong and powerful to save.
3. The Plagues: Creation & Uncreation; Reaping & Sowing
Now, this little section is a kind-of prologue to the plagues – the snake-swallowing is a sign to Pharaoh but the plagues that follow will go beyond signs; they will be the enactment of the Lord’s judgement on Egypt.
We won’t deal with the plagues in detail today (do I hear cheers?) but I do just want to highlight one of the issues that is going on throughout all the plagues.
Pharaoh has been oppressing the people of Israel, acting in ways that are contrary to God’s purposes in creation and opposing the Lord’s purpose to redeem Israel in order to redeem the world. As we have seen, he stands as an anti-God character in this whole story and as such is anti-creation. How will the Lord deal with him?
The plagues that the Lord sends upon Egypt show the Lord’s control over creation but they do so by bringing upon Egypt the terrors of ‘uncreation’ and chaos, of creation gone awry, of decay and death.
There is nothing accidental or random about the Lord’s choice of these plagues. This is showing Pharaoh and Egypt not only that it is the Lord who controls all creation but that the bitter fruit of rebellion against the Lord, the bitter harvest of sin and evil is that it will reap what it sows. It is bent on twisting and distorting what the Lord has made and what the Lord is doing and so it will reap the whirlwind of uncreation and chaos.
This is a principle that runs all the way through scripture – people reap what they sow. Those who do not want to know the Lord will be forever excluded from his presence; those who act against the Lord and his creation will suffer the consequences eternally. Their choice will be seen for what it is.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Even now, Pharaoh could take note of what has just happened and change his mind, humble his heart and let the Lord’s people go. But he does not and he will not. Whilst there are issues there over the Lord working out his own saving purposes for creation through the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, it nevertheless remains true that Pharaoh stands responsible before God for his choices. And they are deadly.
The same is true when the gospel is heard today.
Sunday, 11 June 2006
Exodus 5:22 – 7:7
Moses has come in for some flak from the elders of the Hebrews (vv.20,21). They want the Lord to judge him for bringing them into such a difficult situation. It seems that they were expecting a quick and complicit response from Pharaoh, some thing that we saw Moses and Aaron also seemed to have been expecting.
What is Moses to do? In v.22 we’re told that he “returned to the LORD”. Quite what that means is not clear – did he go back out to the desert? Did he have a special place of prayer in Egypt? Perhaps more than anything what we’re seeing here is a perceived distance between Moses and the Lord (perceived by Moses). Isn’t it true that when things don’t go as we hoped they might that we perceive there to be some distance between the Lord and us?
Whether that phrase is meant to imply that kind of perception, it is certainly present in Moses’ words: he asks if this is what the Lord has intended, to bring trouble on his people. The way the Lord deals with Moses’ objections has much to teach us.
1. The LORD will act
The LORD neither chastises Moses nor defends himself; he simply affirms once more who he is and what he will do. He is Yahweh, the God who makes and keeps covenant, the God who will ever be true to his own character – the God who will be what he will be.
He tells Moses that, although he appeared to Abraham and others as El Shaddai (God Almighty) he wasn’t known to them as Yahweh. Reading Genesis seems to conflict with that, since Abraham and others used that name for him. Yet what is being said here is not about the absolute use of the name but the experience of what that name means. The patriarchs knew his name and something of his character but it will fall to this generation to experience him as the God who saves his people.
And so, both in 6:2-8 and 7:1-7, he stresses his own sovereignty and undertakes to deal with Pharaoh and redeem his people. Moses has perhaps underestimated the reality of the battle they will face but no matter: the Lord is going to act.
His words to Moses here are very much in line with what Joshua is told when he meets the commander of the Lord’s army – he has come to do battle on behalf of his people.
In all our struggles, in all the reality of the spiritual battle that we’re engaged in, we must hold onto this point. The battle is deeper than we have ever imagined; on our own, we could not stand; we would be overthrown in a moment. But the Lord has come, in person, in his Son, to defeat all the powers of darkness.
And, so, Moses is sent back out with a message of strength for the people and a message of doom for Pharaoh. It is with the essence of such words that we also go out into the world of our day – knowing that all power and authority has been given to Jesus and that he is with us always, even to the end of the age.
2. Names & Names
But if the point the LORD is making there is crystal clear, the point of the next section is not. Why all these names? Why here? Why now?
I guess it’s easy to be impatient with scripture at this point – and with preachers who insists on reading passages like this! We live in an age of readily-accessible information that we demand is presented clearly and succinctly. How do you get this sort of stuff into a power point and hold people’s attention? Make it an appendix to the main stuff, yes, but don’t make it part of the main stuff.
Maybe part of the lesson of such passages is a greater attentiveness to scripture and greater patience with it. If a passage doesn’t ‘speak to’ your heart straight away, don’t just rush on but accept that the Lord is still speaking through it and is calling you to humbly sit before the text and quietly seek his help to grasp what is being said.
So how do we do that here? In the first place, notice the way this is structured: vv.10-12 are almost identical to vv.28-30. And in terms of the genealogy itself, the focus is put on the line of Levi and on Aaron in particular, missing out some generations in order to have him at the centre-point with Phinehas at the end. So why this order and why this care to present the details in that fashion?
By taking us back to the sons of Jacob (Israel), this list impresses on us again that what is taking place here is in direct fulfilment of the promises the Lord made to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The people of Israel have a heritage of grace and have been called to serve the purposes of God for his world.
The focus on the line of Levi, and particularly on Aaron, underscores the legitimate priesthood of both Aaron and Moses. This focus on Aaron – not just in the list but in the way the list is framed by Moses’ questions about his speaking to Moses, a job which Aaron will help him with – shows that his role was not one he took for himself but one to which the Lord called him.
Why might that need to be underscored? One of the things we need to remember is that Exodus was first read not by the generation being described in these chapters but those who grew up in the wilderness. And those who grew up in the wilderness would have been familiar with the occasion that Aaron opposed Moses and his willingness later in Exodus to cast an idol for the people.
By laying such stress now on Aaron’s credentials as a priest and the Lord’s choice of him, any undermining of his reputation later on is circumvented. God’s servants are not perfect but that does not stop them from being legitimate servants. It also serves to draw our attention to the one truly righteous servant of God, Jesus.
3. As God to Pharaoh (7:1-7)
When God calls Moses to go back to Pharaoh, he says something very potent to him: “I have made you like God to Pharaoh”; in fact, it’s even more powerful than that – it simple reads “I have made you God to Pharaoh”.
We’ve met this kind of talk before – this is how the Lord described the relationship of Moses to Aaron; Moses would tell him what to speak and Aaron would say it. But although the language is similar, the idea is being taken further. Pharaoh is not a willing participant in the great drama unfolding. Yet Moses will be God to him.
This tells us something vital, not simply about Moses but the nature of all truly Christian living in this world.
As we come to Jesus and are indwelt by his Spirit, something wonderful occurs – we begin to be remade in the image of our gracious Saviour: “And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” (2 Cor 3:18)
And in that state of being new and being made new, we are ‘God’ to the world – a letter to be read by all people that communicates the reality of his saving and judging love – the aroma of life to some and of death to others. The Lord makes his appeal through us, calling people to be reconciled to him (2 Cor 5:20). As his people, we are (in Christ) the light of the world (Mt. 5:14), holding out the word of life to all people (Phil. 2:16).
Your life is not trivial; your witness is not to be measured simply in terms of the words you speak that tell of Jesus. Rather, the potency of our witness is drawn from the fact that we are being changed into his likeness – often, perhaps, in ways that are not visible to us and yet which others see and feel the impact of.
But such transformation only occurs where we behold the Lord’s glory. And that glory is seen, as Paul so clearly reminds those to whom he is writing, in the crucified Messiah. The Corinthians were being taken in by the health & wealth crowd of their day; they saw suffering as a denial of the reality of God. And so Paul had to put them right on that: the glory of God is seen in the face of Jesus Christ – a face that was marred beyond human recognition.
We don’t need to pretend before the world that all is right with us, that becoming a Christian means no more problems and no more suffering. That is simply not true. And the reason we don’t need to pretend that is because God’s power is made perfect in our weakness, that he is glorified through our weaknesses as his Spirit of grace and glory rests upon us.
We have an amazing calling; we have an awesome God. Let’s seek to serve him well, in the power of his Spirit, for the glory of Jesus.
What is Moses to do? In v.22 we’re told that he “returned to the LORD”. Quite what that means is not clear – did he go back out to the desert? Did he have a special place of prayer in Egypt? Perhaps more than anything what we’re seeing here is a perceived distance between Moses and the Lord (perceived by Moses). Isn’t it true that when things don’t go as we hoped they might that we perceive there to be some distance between the Lord and us?
Whether that phrase is meant to imply that kind of perception, it is certainly present in Moses’ words: he asks if this is what the Lord has intended, to bring trouble on his people. The way the Lord deals with Moses’ objections has much to teach us.
1. The LORD will act
The LORD neither chastises Moses nor defends himself; he simply affirms once more who he is and what he will do. He is Yahweh, the God who makes and keeps covenant, the God who will ever be true to his own character – the God who will be what he will be.
He tells Moses that, although he appeared to Abraham and others as El Shaddai (God Almighty) he wasn’t known to them as Yahweh. Reading Genesis seems to conflict with that, since Abraham and others used that name for him. Yet what is being said here is not about the absolute use of the name but the experience of what that name means. The patriarchs knew his name and something of his character but it will fall to this generation to experience him as the God who saves his people.
And so, both in 6:2-8 and 7:1-7, he stresses his own sovereignty and undertakes to deal with Pharaoh and redeem his people. Moses has perhaps underestimated the reality of the battle they will face but no matter: the Lord is going to act.
His words to Moses here are very much in line with what Joshua is told when he meets the commander of the Lord’s army – he has come to do battle on behalf of his people.
In all our struggles, in all the reality of the spiritual battle that we’re engaged in, we must hold onto this point. The battle is deeper than we have ever imagined; on our own, we could not stand; we would be overthrown in a moment. But the Lord has come, in person, in his Son, to defeat all the powers of darkness.
And, so, Moses is sent back out with a message of strength for the people and a message of doom for Pharaoh. It is with the essence of such words that we also go out into the world of our day – knowing that all power and authority has been given to Jesus and that he is with us always, even to the end of the age.
2. Names & Names
But if the point the LORD is making there is crystal clear, the point of the next section is not. Why all these names? Why here? Why now?
I guess it’s easy to be impatient with scripture at this point – and with preachers who insists on reading passages like this! We live in an age of readily-accessible information that we demand is presented clearly and succinctly. How do you get this sort of stuff into a power point and hold people’s attention? Make it an appendix to the main stuff, yes, but don’t make it part of the main stuff.
Maybe part of the lesson of such passages is a greater attentiveness to scripture and greater patience with it. If a passage doesn’t ‘speak to’ your heart straight away, don’t just rush on but accept that the Lord is still speaking through it and is calling you to humbly sit before the text and quietly seek his help to grasp what is being said.
So how do we do that here? In the first place, notice the way this is structured: vv.10-12 are almost identical to vv.28-30. And in terms of the genealogy itself, the focus is put on the line of Levi and on Aaron in particular, missing out some generations in order to have him at the centre-point with Phinehas at the end. So why this order and why this care to present the details in that fashion?
By taking us back to the sons of Jacob (Israel), this list impresses on us again that what is taking place here is in direct fulfilment of the promises the Lord made to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The people of Israel have a heritage of grace and have been called to serve the purposes of God for his world.
The focus on the line of Levi, and particularly on Aaron, underscores the legitimate priesthood of both Aaron and Moses. This focus on Aaron – not just in the list but in the way the list is framed by Moses’ questions about his speaking to Moses, a job which Aaron will help him with – shows that his role was not one he took for himself but one to which the Lord called him.
Why might that need to be underscored? One of the things we need to remember is that Exodus was first read not by the generation being described in these chapters but those who grew up in the wilderness. And those who grew up in the wilderness would have been familiar with the occasion that Aaron opposed Moses and his willingness later in Exodus to cast an idol for the people.
By laying such stress now on Aaron’s credentials as a priest and the Lord’s choice of him, any undermining of his reputation later on is circumvented. God’s servants are not perfect but that does not stop them from being legitimate servants. It also serves to draw our attention to the one truly righteous servant of God, Jesus.
3. As God to Pharaoh (7:1-7)
When God calls Moses to go back to Pharaoh, he says something very potent to him: “I have made you like God to Pharaoh”; in fact, it’s even more powerful than that – it simple reads “I have made you God to Pharaoh”.
We’ve met this kind of talk before – this is how the Lord described the relationship of Moses to Aaron; Moses would tell him what to speak and Aaron would say it. But although the language is similar, the idea is being taken further. Pharaoh is not a willing participant in the great drama unfolding. Yet Moses will be God to him.
This tells us something vital, not simply about Moses but the nature of all truly Christian living in this world.
As we come to Jesus and are indwelt by his Spirit, something wonderful occurs – we begin to be remade in the image of our gracious Saviour: “And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” (2 Cor 3:18)
And in that state of being new and being made new, we are ‘God’ to the world – a letter to be read by all people that communicates the reality of his saving and judging love – the aroma of life to some and of death to others. The Lord makes his appeal through us, calling people to be reconciled to him (2 Cor 5:20). As his people, we are (in Christ) the light of the world (Mt. 5:14), holding out the word of life to all people (Phil. 2:16).
Your life is not trivial; your witness is not to be measured simply in terms of the words you speak that tell of Jesus. Rather, the potency of our witness is drawn from the fact that we are being changed into his likeness – often, perhaps, in ways that are not visible to us and yet which others see and feel the impact of.
But such transformation only occurs where we behold the Lord’s glory. And that glory is seen, as Paul so clearly reminds those to whom he is writing, in the crucified Messiah. The Corinthians were being taken in by the health & wealth crowd of their day; they saw suffering as a denial of the reality of God. And so Paul had to put them right on that: the glory of God is seen in the face of Jesus Christ – a face that was marred beyond human recognition.
We don’t need to pretend before the world that all is right with us, that becoming a Christian means no more problems and no more suffering. That is simply not true. And the reason we don’t need to pretend that is because God’s power is made perfect in our weakness, that he is glorified through our weaknesses as his Spirit of grace and glory rests upon us.
We have an amazing calling; we have an awesome God. Let’s seek to serve him well, in the power of his Spirit, for the glory of Jesus.
Sunday, 4 June 2006
Images of God, Reality of God (Volf)
There is God. And there are images of God. And some people don't see any difference between the two.
A capable, good-hearted, and devout servant by the name of Felicite from Gustave Flaubert's "A Simple Heart" fell prey to this confusion between God and God's images. She was alone and unappreciated, and her parrot Loulou became "almost like a son, a lover to her", so much so that, when he died, she had him stuffed. Soon the gospel's image of the Holy Spirit as a dove began to merge with her stuffed parrot, and she fell "into the idolatrous habit of saying her prayers on her knees in front of the parrot". Finally, Flaubert wrote, as she breathed her last, "she thought she saw, as the heavens opened, a gigantic parrot hovering over her head."' Abandoned by others, she transferred her love to the parrot, transforming it into a god. An earthly image morphed into a divine reality.
Most people who fuse God's image and God's reality aren't nearly so naive. Some, like great critics of religion, argue that God is simply a projection of human ideals onto a heavenly screen; that God is, as Karl Marx thought, a reflection of the human need to be consoled in misery and to cope with weakness. For them, God doesn't exist as a reality independent of human beings. "God" is the name that the foolish, the miserable, and the weak give to what is nothing more than a useful figment of human imagination.
I will leave these critics aside here, and instead focus on what is perhaps the most troubling confusion between God's reality and God's image, which falls somewhere between the naive Felicite and the shrewd Marx. It's believers who fall prey to this confusion. We don't see them kneeling before parrots. Neither do they trumpet, "God is a human projection." They don't brazenly say, "God doesn't exist; only images of God do." To the contrary, they piously affirm, "God is a reality independent of our minds" and "God is nothing like a parrot, or any other creature."
And yet they worship idols without even knowing it. Unlike Felicite's parrot, their gods are not made of the hard matter of this world and don't sit elevated on sacred pedestals. Instead, they dwell in their worshipers' minds and are made of the soft stuff of their own cherished ideas. They simply assume that who they believe God to be and who God truly is are one and the same. God is as large (or as small) as they make the Infinite One to be, and none of the beliefs they entertain about God could possibly be wrong.
But in fact, our images of God are rather different from God's reality. We are finite beings, and God is infinitely greater than any thoughts we can contain about divine reality in our wondrous but tiny minds. We are sinful beings, and God is different from what we conceive in our selfishness and pride. Finite and self-centered as we are, we often forget God's warning through the prophet Isaiah: "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (55:9). When we forget that, we unwittingly reduce God's ways to our ways and God's thoughts to our thoughts. Our hearts become factories of idols in which we fashion and refashion God to fit our needs and desires.
Yet the most powerful and seductive images of God are not the ones we craft in the privacy of our hearts. They are the ones that seep into our minds as we watch TV, read books, go shopping at the mall, or socialize with our neighbors. Slowly and imperceptibly, the one true God begins acquiring the features of the gods of this world. For instance, our God simply gratifies our desires rather than reshaping them in accordance with the beauty of God's own character. Our God then kills enemies rather than dying on their behalf as God did in Jesus Christ. To use Flaubert's metaphor, the dove of the Spirit becomes the parrot whose plumage bears a striking resemblance to our culture's values.
To worship God rather than idols of our own making, we must allow God to break apart the idols we create, through the Spirit's relentless and intimate work within our lives. First, we need to know where to look for knowledge of the true God. It would be a mistake to seek that knowledge primarily in the world around us. God is not an object in this world. There's no map that says "X marks the spot." Whatever we find in the world will be ... the world, and not God. Neither can we find God in the infinity that lies beyond the cosmos. God is not an unnamed something on the other side of the temporal and spatial edges of the universe. Rather, as Christians, we find God in Jesus Christ, God's Word incarnate as witnessed in the Scriptures, God's written word.
It's not enough, however, to know where to look for God. We also need eyes and ears that can recognize the true knowledge of God when we come across it. For it could be that even as we look at Jesus Christ and read Scripture, as the prophet Isaiah put it, we "keep listening, but do not comprehend" and "keep looking, but do not understand" (6:9). Think of people who observed Jesus teach and heal and embody the life of God - and they saw nothing but a "false prophet" or a "political rebel". Our eyes and ears need a heart ready to receive the truth of God's reality rather than one that longs for the comforts of false gods.
Finally, even when we look in the right places with a ready heart, we still might miss the one true God. We need to be willing to let our very effort to know God slide out of our hands, opening them to God's continued and unexpected self-revelation. Otherwise, like the dog from Aesop's fable, we may end up dropping the real piece of meat in order to grab its reflection in the water.
(Miroslav Volf, Free Of Charge, pp.21-23)
A capable, good-hearted, and devout servant by the name of Felicite from Gustave Flaubert's "A Simple Heart" fell prey to this confusion between God and God's images. She was alone and unappreciated, and her parrot Loulou became "almost like a son, a lover to her", so much so that, when he died, she had him stuffed. Soon the gospel's image of the Holy Spirit as a dove began to merge with her stuffed parrot, and she fell "into the idolatrous habit of saying her prayers on her knees in front of the parrot". Finally, Flaubert wrote, as she breathed her last, "she thought she saw, as the heavens opened, a gigantic parrot hovering over her head."' Abandoned by others, she transferred her love to the parrot, transforming it into a god. An earthly image morphed into a divine reality.
Most people who fuse God's image and God's reality aren't nearly so naive. Some, like great critics of religion, argue that God is simply a projection of human ideals onto a heavenly screen; that God is, as Karl Marx thought, a reflection of the human need to be consoled in misery and to cope with weakness. For them, God doesn't exist as a reality independent of human beings. "God" is the name that the foolish, the miserable, and the weak give to what is nothing more than a useful figment of human imagination.
I will leave these critics aside here, and instead focus on what is perhaps the most troubling confusion between God's reality and God's image, which falls somewhere between the naive Felicite and the shrewd Marx. It's believers who fall prey to this confusion. We don't see them kneeling before parrots. Neither do they trumpet, "God is a human projection." They don't brazenly say, "God doesn't exist; only images of God do." To the contrary, they piously affirm, "God is a reality independent of our minds" and "God is nothing like a parrot, or any other creature."
And yet they worship idols without even knowing it. Unlike Felicite's parrot, their gods are not made of the hard matter of this world and don't sit elevated on sacred pedestals. Instead, they dwell in their worshipers' minds and are made of the soft stuff of their own cherished ideas. They simply assume that who they believe God to be and who God truly is are one and the same. God is as large (or as small) as they make the Infinite One to be, and none of the beliefs they entertain about God could possibly be wrong.
But in fact, our images of God are rather different from God's reality. We are finite beings, and God is infinitely greater than any thoughts we can contain about divine reality in our wondrous but tiny minds. We are sinful beings, and God is different from what we conceive in our selfishness and pride. Finite and self-centered as we are, we often forget God's warning through the prophet Isaiah: "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (55:9). When we forget that, we unwittingly reduce God's ways to our ways and God's thoughts to our thoughts. Our hearts become factories of idols in which we fashion and refashion God to fit our needs and desires.
Yet the most powerful and seductive images of God are not the ones we craft in the privacy of our hearts. They are the ones that seep into our minds as we watch TV, read books, go shopping at the mall, or socialize with our neighbors. Slowly and imperceptibly, the one true God begins acquiring the features of the gods of this world. For instance, our God simply gratifies our desires rather than reshaping them in accordance with the beauty of God's own character. Our God then kills enemies rather than dying on their behalf as God did in Jesus Christ. To use Flaubert's metaphor, the dove of the Spirit becomes the parrot whose plumage bears a striking resemblance to our culture's values.
To worship God rather than idols of our own making, we must allow God to break apart the idols we create, through the Spirit's relentless and intimate work within our lives. First, we need to know where to look for knowledge of the true God. It would be a mistake to seek that knowledge primarily in the world around us. God is not an object in this world. There's no map that says "X marks the spot." Whatever we find in the world will be ... the world, and not God. Neither can we find God in the infinity that lies beyond the cosmos. God is not an unnamed something on the other side of the temporal and spatial edges of the universe. Rather, as Christians, we find God in Jesus Christ, God's Word incarnate as witnessed in the Scriptures, God's written word.
It's not enough, however, to know where to look for God. We also need eyes and ears that can recognize the true knowledge of God when we come across it. For it could be that even as we look at Jesus Christ and read Scripture, as the prophet Isaiah put it, we "keep listening, but do not comprehend" and "keep looking, but do not understand" (6:9). Think of people who observed Jesus teach and heal and embody the life of God - and they saw nothing but a "false prophet" or a "political rebel". Our eyes and ears need a heart ready to receive the truth of God's reality rather than one that longs for the comforts of false gods.
Finally, even when we look in the right places with a ready heart, we still might miss the one true God. We need to be willing to let our very effort to know God slide out of our hands, opening them to God's continued and unexpected self-revelation. Otherwise, like the dog from Aesop's fable, we may end up dropping the real piece of meat in order to grab its reflection in the water.
(Miroslav Volf, Free Of Charge, pp.21-23)
How to Know the Truth
Jesus' words in John 8:31,32 seem to speak of an epistemology of faith and obedience:
Knowing the truth is consequent to holding to his teaching, honouring him with our faith and obeying him as his disciples. Even if the kai in v.32 is simply translated as 'and' and not 'then', there still seems to be a progression in what he is saying, that knowing follows the doing of faith and obedience.
Of course, we ought to expect just this in the light of the wisdom of the Book of Proverbs, that
A genuine reverence for the LORD which results in changed thoughts and actions is the precondition for knowing - truly knowing.
The implications of this must surely be significant, both pastorally and evangelistically.
If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. (TNIV)
Knowing the truth is consequent to holding to his teaching, honouring him with our faith and obeying him as his disciples. Even if the kai in v.32 is simply translated as 'and' and not 'then', there still seems to be a progression in what he is saying, that knowing follows the doing of faith and obedience.
Of course, we ought to expect just this in the light of the wisdom of the Book of Proverbs, that
The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge (Prov. 1:7a)
A genuine reverence for the LORD which results in changed thoughts and actions is the precondition for knowing - truly knowing.
The implications of this must surely be significant, both pastorally and evangelistically.
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