Two Mothers, One God, and a Savior

Exodus 2:1–10 ESV

1 Now a man from the house of Levi went and took as his wife a Levite woman. 2 The woman conceived and bore a son, and when she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him three months. 3 When she could hide him no longer, she took for him a basket made of bulrushes and daubed it with bitumen and pitch. She put the child in it and placed it among the reeds by the river bank. 4 And his sister stood at a distance to know what would be done to him. 5 Now the daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her young women walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her servant woman, and she took it. 6 When she opened it, she saw the child, and behold, the baby was crying. She took pity on him and said, “This is one of the Hebrews’ children.” 7 Then his sister said to Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and call you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” 8 And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Go.” So the girl went and called the child’s mother. 9 And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this child away and nurse him for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed him. 10 When the child grew older, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, and he became her son. She named him Moses, “Because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.”

James Weldon Johnson is probably most well known as the man who wrote the lyrics to the song that would come to be called the Negro National Anthem, “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” However, almost 95 years ago, in 1925 he and his brother, John Rosamond Johnson, published, The Books of the American Negro Spirituals. They labored to compile all of the Negro Spirituals in a two volume work, and set them to the appropriate musical arrangements. Unlike other Christian hymnals, there aren’t any authors listed for any of the songs. That’s because no one knows who first penned the words, but they came to be embraced by a community enduring suffering.

James Weldon Johnson is probably most well known as the man who wrote the lyrics to the song that would come to be called the Negro National Anthem, “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” 90 years ago, in 1925 he and his brother, John Rosamond Johnson, published, The Books of the American Negro Spirituals. They labored to compile all of the Negro Spirituals in a two volume work, and set them to the appropriate musical arrangements. Unlike other Christian hymnals, there aren’t any authors listed for any of the songs. That’s because no one knows who first penned the words, but they came to be embraced by a community enduring suffering.

James Weldon Johnson opens the preface to the book with the words of a poem he wrote twenty years before the book was published. The title of the poem is, “O Black and Unknown Bards.” (A bard is a poet. Particularly one associated with an oral tradition.) Here is some of what he writes in that poem,

Heart of what slave poured out such melody

As “Steal away to Jesus”? On its strains

His spirit must have nightly floated free,

Though still about his hands he felt his chains.

Who heard great “Jordan roll”? Whose starward eye

Saw chariot “swing low”? And who was heThat breathed that comforting, melodic sigh,

Saw chariot “swing low”? And who was he

“Nobody knows de trouble I see”?

That breathed that comforting, melodic sigh,

What merely living clod, what captive thing

“Nobody knows de trouble I see”?

Could up toward God through all its darkness grope,

And find within its deadened heart to sing

These songs of sorrow, love and faith, and hope?

He ends the poem with these words,

You sang far better than you knew; the songs

That for your listners’ hungry heart sufficed

Still live – but more than this to you belongs:

You sang a race from wood and stone to Christ.

The words of this poem were on my mind because of this question Johnson asks in the poem. “What captive thing could up toward God through all its darkness grope, and find within its deadened heart to sing―These songs of sorrow, love and faith, and hope?” There is a reason why the Black American slave found a particular intimacy with the book of Exodus and the plight of the children of Israel in Egypt. We have in our text what we might call, the audacity of hope.

The words of this poem were on my mind this week, not simply because Black History Month has come around again. It came to mind because of this question Johnson asks in the poem. “What captive thing could up toward God through all its darkness grope, and find within its deadened heart to sing―These songs of sorrow, love and faith, and hope?” There is a reason why the Black American slave found a particular intimacy with the book of Exodus and the plight of the children of Israel in Egypt. We have in our text what we might call, to borrow a phrase from the President, the audacity of hope.

We have two mothers in our text. One who is groping through the darkness of captivity, with the audacity in her desperation to have hope. The other, who is in the seat of privilege, but whom God uses to answer that hope with the most surprising form of help. Through this help, God brings a hero. Those are our three “H’s” today, Hope, Help, and Hero. I want to invite you to see another ‘h’ in our message today. It’s not one of the points, but there is a deep deep humanity that permeates this text. Don’t just go looking for the theological facts, or the life application points. I want us to come into the rich human experience in this story. God is not mentioned at all in these ten verses. He’s there, but he’s behind the scene, putting before us the people and how he directs lives for his good purpose.

I want us to come into the rich human experience in this story. God is not mentioned at all in these ten verses. He’s there, but he’s behind the scene, putting before us the people and how he directs lives for his good purpose.

We’re clued into this in v. 1. We’re told that a man from the house of Levi went and married a daughter of Levi. This isn’t a throw away verse. It’s significant because the Levites are going to be the tribe through whom the priests come. It’s the tribe of Levi that will have responsibility over the holy objects in the tabernacle. The priests from the tribe of Levi will stand as intercessors. That is, they will stand between God and the people, offering sacrifices on behalf of the people and bringing them before God in prayer and worship. They are specially set apart for God’s service. And even though that hasn’t happened yet in the story, it would’ve been a clear indication to the original readers that we are about to see a man set apart by God for his special service.

This message comes in the midst of the most desperate of situations. The woman conceives, in v. 2, and she gives birth to a son. When she saw him, that he was beautiful, she hid him for three months. The ESV translates the Hebrew word I translated as “beautiful,” as “fine child.” The basic meaning of that word is “good.” There are nuances and a range of meanings for the word, but in this context it at least communicates that this was a healthy baby boy. There were no health issues with him that would lead to infant mortality. The description is giving us insight into how this mother felt about her baby boy. This is a passion filled statement. Her love for him leads her to act in hope that things could be different for her son.

this mother felt about her baby boy. This is a passion filled statement. Her love for him leads her to act in hope that things could be different for her son.

“She gave birth to a son.” That stands in direct contrast to Pharaoh’s decree in 1:22, “every son shall be cast into the Nile.” It’s not as though Moses was the only beautiful or healthy Hebrew newborn baby boy.

And it’s not as though Moses’ father wasn’t a part of the decision to hide him for three months. Dad isn’t mentioned here, but we’re told in , “By faith when Moses was born he was hidden for three months by his parents because they saw that the child was beautiful and they did not fear the king's edict.”

What is emphasized here in is Mom’s love. Her love for her son, that drives her to hope for something better for him. Her hope causes her to stand in opposition to the king of Egypt. She opposes the king’s law. Just like the midwives, mama is on God’s side. How many of you know that it is hard to find a human love that is stronger than the love a mother has for her child? That motherly love images God’s love. In the 131st Psalm, David pictures himself at rest and peaceful as someone who’s received that kind of love from God. He says in ,

Psalm 131:2 ESV

2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.

He’s saying that like that weaned child is content to just live in his mother’s presence, he’s content, as a faithful worshipper, with God’s presence. He compares the love and peace he receives from God to that of a mother’s love.

“I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me.” He’s saying that like that weaned child is content to just live in his mother’s presence, he’s content, as a faithful

worshipper, with God’s presence. He compares the love and peace he receives from God to that of a mother’s love.

Did you know, mothers, that you’re imaging God in your love for your children? Not only that, but look at how God works. We’re going to see this again in the second point, but the Lord loves to use the ordinary truths that he has put in place, that he has wired into our lives, to bring about his extraordinary purposes. God had a greater purpose for Moses. Moses was going to be a savior. He was going to deliver his people from bondage. And even more, God had determined that Moses was going to be a pre-figuring of Jesus Christ; that when we looked at Moses what we would be looking at is someone who’s pointing us to Jesus Christ. But Moses’ mother didn’t know any of that. All she knew was that she loved her son! She didn’t care that she was a slave with no rights. She couldn’t bear the thought of giving her son up to be killed.

That love led her to a desperate hope. When she was no longer able, we’re told in v. 3, to keep him hidden, she took a little ark. She took a basket of papyrus reeds and made it water proof by sealing it with bitumen and pitch. She put the child into the basket, and placed it among the reeds by the bank of the river. How many Hebrew baby boys had been thrown into the Nile, as it became a river of death? Here she is, placing her baby at the edge of the Nile hoping to save his life. Hoping that the waters of death becomes a river of life for her son! Can you feel her heart pounding in her chest. “I’ve got to do something. He may die, but what else can I do?”

What was she hoping and praying for at this moment? I would imagine that she had to say and pray what every mother who trusts in the Lord will have to say and pray at some point, “Lord, I place him in your hands. Would you guard his life? I don’t have control over what will happen to him, but you do. Take care of my child.” Mothers, have you ever had to pray like that? If you haven’t yet, you will. Her hope had to be in the Lord even as she dispatched his sister to stand at a distance to find out what would happen to him.

From the most unexpected place, God provides help in response to her hope. I love the way the story breaks in v. 5. “Now, Pharaoh’s daughter came down to bathe at the river, and her young women were walking beside the river. Wouldn’t you know it? She saw the basket among the reeds, and sent her servant woman to get it. (upon initial hearing, that’s not sounding like help) When she opened it, she saw the child, and behold, the boy was crying. She took pity on him and said, “This is one of the Hebrews’ children.”

The help for Moses, the hope of his mother’s prayer, is going to come from Pharaoh’s own household. The help comes from the most unexpected and least likely of places. God has determined to use Pharaoh’s daughter to help a Hebrew boy who would later deliver his people from bondage to Pharaoh. Pharaoh has been trying to play God and declare himself as the one who has authority over life and death. The clear message of the text is that no king, no leader has absolute authority and power. Absolute power and authority belong to God alone. God isn’t mentioned in our text, but it’s clear who’s calling the shots. Pharaoh can’t be everywhere and see everything. He doesn’t even know what’s going on with Moses’ mother and his own daughter, but God does.

that no king, no leader has absolute authority and power. Absolute power and authority belong to God alone. God isn’t mentioned in our text, but it’s clear who’s calling the shots. Pharaoh can’t be everywhere and see everything. He doesn’t even know what’s going on with Moses’ mother and his own daughter, but God does.

How does God help Moses? The answer is, through the same means that Moses came to be in that basket in the first place. Through a mother’s love. The hinge in this story are the words in v. 6, “she took pity on him.” This isn’t her simply feeling sorry for the baby. It’s pity with a sense of deep compassion. One of the hardest words to appropriately translate into English is the Hebrew word translated as “behold,” in v. 6. It’s regularly translated into English as “behold,” and sometimes it’s left untranslated. It can carry the sense of an assertion of truth with emphasis. Which is why we often see, “behold!”

To get at the reaction of Pharaoh’s daughter, “behold” doesn’t cut it for me. When she opened the basket, and saw the child, her reaction is like, “Look! Oh my! A boy crying!” Can you picture the scene? Her heart was knit to this baby boy. I don’t know about whether this is the case at Church of the Advent, but in every church I’ve been privileged to pastor, we’ve always had some adoptive mothers, and some women who desire to adopt. What was it like the first time that you laid eyes on the child whom God would bring into your home? For those who desire to adopt, what do you imagine it will be like when you lay your eyes on him or her? You know that God will knit your heart to the child. You know that there will be a deep sense of compassion and love. If you can picture yourself in that scenario, you know what happened to Pharaoh’s daughter!

you can picture yourself in that scenario, you know what happened to Pharaoh’s daughter!

God provided Moses with two mothers. A birth mother who out of a deep love and desperate hope for a better life for her son was willing to let go of him and give him up. And he provided for Moses an adoptive mother. Who, the moment she laid eyes on him knew, this is my son. Don’t you love God and how he works! Do you understand? This isn’t a case of mistaken identity. Pharaoh’s daughter knows that this is a Hebrew boy and he’s supposed to be killed. But she doesn’t care. His ethnicity wasn’t nearly as important as humanity (there’s a message there…). It’s his condition that has reached her heart. She doesn’t care what her father’s law is. Guess what? She doesn’t know what God has in store for Moses either. The Lord decided to provide Moses the protection and the covering that he needed, by giving him an adoptive mother. Praise God for mothers who adopt.

Look at the covering and protection that Moses receives because of Pharaoh’s daughter. His sister has been standing at a distance, waiting in the wings. When she sees what happens, she goes to Pharaoh’s daughter and says, “Do you want me to go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the boy for you?” Because of Pharaoh’s decree there are probably a number of Hebrew birth mothers who are available to nurse a baby because their own son has been killed. But his sister knows exactly who she’s going to get. The birth mother and the adoptive mother meet. One a slave and the other royalty. “Nurse him for me, and I’ll give you your wages.” Moses’ birth mother gets paid to nurse her own son, and help to raise him. She can do it in the open, without fear because he’s being adopted into the royal family. No Egyptian is going to come and kill him now.

Because of this adoption, the hero is able to live. Moses is the hero. Make no mistake about it. He’s the one who’s going to grow up and save his people. But he’s a hero who needed help. He’s a hero who was vulnerable and needed God’s protection through the love of two mothers. Even in this, he directs our gaze towards Jesus Christ. For when God wanted to save us from our desperate condition of enslavement to our own sinful hearts, when he wanted to save us from the path of destruction that our sinful rebellion against him has us on, he sent his Son, born of woman, born as a baby. For to us a child is born. To us a Son is given, and his name is Jesus Christ. This story of is repeated in . King Herod is threatened by the birth of the one who has been born king of the Jews. He institutes the same murderous program, killing all the male children in the region of Bethlehem who were two years old or younger. An angel of the Lord warns Joseph, Jesus’ adoptive father, in a dream. The family runs away to Egypt to escape the murderous decree.

The salvation that God provides, the deliverance that God provides comes through the vulnerability of the Savior. God had Moses go into the Nile, into the place of his peoples’ suffering, that he might be able to identify with their sufferings. But, the ultimate hero isn’t Moses. The ultimate hero is Jesus Christ. God had Jesus enter the sufferings of his people to bring to us a greater salvation! The deliverance that Jesus brings is greater than the deliverance Moses brought. As the writer to the Hebrews says in , “Jesus has been counted worthy of more glory than Moses―as much more glory as the builder of a house has more honor than the house itself…Moses was faithful in all God’s house as a servant, to testify to the things that were to be spoken later, but Christ is faithful over God’s house as a son.”

The Savior, Jesus Christ, who came to us as a vulnerable baby boy in need of God’s protection, in order to enable him to identify with us in every way―he’s a greater hero with a greater salvation than Moses because he is building a house for God. And this house is built with living stones, people that God indiscriminately brings in from every ethnic group and social class. Do you know what every member of Jesus’ house has in common? We all come in by adoption. Through Jesus, God bestows upon us that love we see in adoptive mothers―who lay their eyes upon children in need of a home and say, “I’m bringing her in. I bringing him in.” Do you know the adoptive love of God who has entered into our suffering? Are you able to rejoice today in being adopted by God through faith in Jesus Christ?…

Two Mothers, One God, and a Savior

Introduction

Hope

Help

Hero