Personally, I have a lot of trouble with the theological term, “the permissive will of God.” We usually apply it whenever someone has done something wrong or merely made a foolish, but not deliberate, choice and then, God makes something good out of the human mess. My problem with the term is that it implies that God has given overt permission for humans to sin and fail. I don’t think that’s what happens at all. God doesn’t WILL for sin to occur. Rather, I believe that God ALLOWS it to occur (via the inexplicable miracle of an all-powerful and all-knowing God nevertheless limiting Himself to guarantee authentic human choice) with a heavy heart. God knows the price to be paid, but God believes authentic free choice to be worth it.
The Catholic archbishop and novelist, Andrew Greeley, brilliantly describes God’s redemptive work and holy clean-up as God’s big crayon making crooked lines straight, but this only addresses the result, not the process, of what many call “the permissive will of God.” It reminds me of when, as a young boy, my mother and I would color at the same coloring book--she on one page while I colored on another. Her work was beautiful. My work was that of a child with lousy motor skills. The grain would change direction and the colors would go outside the lines. I would look at her work and back at mine, then shove the book over so that my work was in front of hers. "Fix it!" I would plead. And she would go over my crossed grains to smooth out the texture and use a big crayon to enclose my mistakes in bigger lines. It never looked as good as her work, but it looked much better.
That is how I look at forgiveness of sin. It would have been better if we hadn’t, but God has already taken it into consideration and can "Fix it!" The good news is that he can fix it better than my mother could fix my coloring book.
This week, I feel led to consider a little more of the process because the text God set aside for me to consider requires such consideration. So, before your eyes glaze over and you think I’m going to talk about theological terms that don’t seem relevant to your everyday life, let’s consider the text of which we’re speaking.
[Read Exodus 4:18-26 KJV] [Pray]
If you’re like me, you see a lot of things in this passage that are tough to understand. Why does God try to kill Moses after He commissioned him in the first place? Why was Moses’ son still uncircumcised well after the eighth day had passed? Why did Zipporah understand the need for the emergency circumcision when Moses, God’s representative didn’t? Why didn’t Moses tell Jethro what he was really planning to do in Egypt? What does the phrase “bridegroom of blood” mean? Was it “fair” for God to say that He would harden Pharaoh’s heart before anything happened? Why is “firstborn son” or “firstborn sons” such an important theme in this passage?
And as I ask these questions of the text, I suddenly see why so many pastors and teachers zip right past it and get on to the drama between Moses and Pharaoh. Fortunately, one of the important facets of preaching through a book means that you ignore these little transitional or bridge passages at your own peril. We believe that the Holy Spirit inspired both the writing and the preservation of the Bible, so we’d better make sure that we prayerfully consider the whole Word instead of creating our own “canon within a canon” by only considering the passages with which we’re comfortable.
I’m not sure that you’re going to get definitive answers to these questions in this message, but I’m sure that God is going to speak to all of us as we struggle to understand this difficult text and its significance for believers today. Immediately upon his call experience, we read: (my translation from the Hebrew) (v. 18) “And Moses proceeded to return to Jethro (variant spelling used here), his father-in-law, and he proceeded to say, ‘Please let me go and let me return to my brothers who are in Egypt and let me see if they are still living.’ And Jethro (normal spelling used here) proceeded to say to Moses, ‘Go (in) peace.’ (v. 19) And Yahweh proceeded to say to Moses, ‘Go! Return to Egypt because all the men who sought your soul [to kill you] are [themselves] dead.’”
Here, as in many places in the Bible, we see Moses setting off from two lenses of tradition. The first lens is that of the human perspective. He asks permission of a human authority and receives a blessing. The second lens is that of the divine perspective. He is commanded to go by God and gets a bonus reassurance that circumstances in Egypt have changed (his old antagonists are dead) and the timing is right for God’s purposes to be done.
As is often the case, the human part is complicated. Moses isn’t entirely up front with his father-in-law. He doesn’t tell him that he is going to Egypt to foment revolution. He doesn’t share about his marvelous call from God. He doesn’t demonstrate any of the wonders that God gave him to share. He doesn’t indicate that he has been ordered to confront Pharaoh. Of course, he doesn’t. From the human perspective, he doesn’t have the courage to say, “Say, Jethro. I’ve been thinking. Wouldn’t it be a hoot to go down and tweak Pharaoh’s nose and put your daughter’s and grandson’s lives in jeopardy?” I don’t think Jethro would have bought it even if Moses has said, “Don’t you believe God will protect your daughter and grandson? Don’t you have enough faith?”
No, Moses presents his proposal as a reconnaissance mission. He doesn’t testify to any aspect of faith. He doesn’t reveal the plan of God. He’s basically sneaking off to do God’s will. Not exactly the finest example of faith, is he? Fortunately, though, he gets Jethro’s blessing. He’s sent away with the human authority’s best wishes and in that “shalom” of peace (the literal Hebrew), there is an expectation of success. I believe that Jethro’s blessing is God straightening out the crooked line of Moses’ timidity.
In fact, I think that’s why we have a “second” version of Moses’ commissioning taking place in verse 19—God is dealing with Moses’ timidity. I know that many scholars believe that this is a seam where two different traditions have been woven together, but even if that’s so, why did the early Hebrews keep both versions. To paraphrase a modern axiom, “It’s the text, stupid!” Since Moses isn’t confident enough to confide his purpose in his father-in-law, how on earth is he going to face up to Pharaoh. If he can’t admit the possibility of failure now, how is he going to go back and triumph where he previously failed? The answer is in God’s promise. God wants him to go to Egypt because times and circumstances have changed enough that Moses can now be successful.
Verse 18 provides, in spite of Moses’ beating around the bush (if you’ll pardon the pun), the human consideration and verse 19 provides the divine assurance. When you have both, you’d expect things to go smoothly. So, let’s continue on.
(again, my translation) (v. 20) “And Moses proceeded to take his wife and his son and caused them to ride upon the donkey and they returned to the land of Egypt. And Moses proceeded to take the rod of God in his hand.”
Now, we should be even more certain of success. Do you notice the subtle transformation which has occurred? Initially, at the burning bush, God asked Moses to identify the object in his hand. Moses replied that it was “a” rod—not “my” rod, but “an” ordinary shepherd’s staff. God causes the rod to go through its transformation from serpent to rod and back again as a miraculous sign to Moses first, Israel second, and Pharaoh third. This rod was not only the symbol of Moses’ profession as a shepherd’s rod, but the same word can mean “scepter” or “rod of authority.” Yet, here, what we see is that the authority no longer belongs to Moses and the “rod” is no longer the symbol of Moses’ authority, it is now the “rod of God.”
When Moses packs up his wife and son, he leaves the familiar and comfortable behind, but he holds in his hand, the authority of God. And anytime we expect to win spiritual victory in our lives, we need to be willing to put our authority down in order that we can pick God’s authority up. If the issue is our own authority, gifts, strength, and talent, we’ve already lost. So, I think it’s significant that Moses leaves armed with a rod blessed by, endorsed by, and symbolic of God’s own authority—the rod of God.
But things aren’t exactly as they seem. (again, my translation) (v. 21) And Yahweh proceeded to say to Moses, ‘When you go to return to Egypt, see all the wonders which I placed in your hand and in relation to that, perform them in front of Pharaoh and I will make his heart rigid and he will not send out the people. (v. 22) And in relation to that you shall say to Pharaoh, ‘Thus says Yahweh, ‘Israel is my FIRSTBORN SON, (v. 23) and (so) I say to you, ‘Send out my son and they will serve me, but you are refusing to send him out. Check it out, I am killing your firstborn son.’’”
The good news is that God tells Moses that he is “locked and loaded.” God has already given Moses the resources, in this case “wonders,” he’ll need to win, but God immediately follows it up with the news that victory isn’t immediately in the offing. In fact, God states that He Himself will see that Pharaoh’s heart becomes rigid, hardened, and inflexible.
This is important in the ancient world because the heart wasn’t considered the center of emotion in the human being as it is in today’s metaphorical language. In the ancient world, the heart was the volitional center—the will, the “decider” if you will. If the heart is rigid and inflexible, it means that the individual can’t be transformed—they are locked in their individual rut and they can’t get out.
But here’s where we run into trouble. God states that He is going to harden Pharaoh’s heart and, in relation to that, Pharaoh won’t let the people go. So many people look at this and say, “It’s not fair! God forced Pharaoh to make this decision and then, punished Pharaoh and all of Egypt.” But if you look closely, that isn’t exactly what happened. When you read the next few chapters, you’ll notice a pattern where Pharaoh himself keeps hardening his own heart, refusing God’s will by an act of his will. Then, after several of those free personal decisions, God solidifies Pharaoh’s personal decisions by agreeing with him, even though it was against Pharaoh’s best interests.
You may not agree with me, but I think that when you take the passage as a whole, the indication is that God knew what was going to happen and that God allowed it to happen, even contributed to its happening toward the end, in order to demonstrate more fully that He was doing something new. I believe that God allows people to make their own decisions, but after they form a pattern, God reluctantly agrees with them and works with those who are still open to change and influence.
I believe God cut to the chase with Moses and explained the endgame of the struggle with Pharaoh so that Moses wouldn’t get too discouraged or frightened when Pharaoh refused to accede to God’s commands right from the start. God was assuring Moses that He was in control, even though Pharaoh would seem to be refusing Moses from a position of power. God is assuring Moses that He knows what Pharaoh is going to do. God does this, but He does it in such a way that He affirms the free (but wrong) choice of Pharaoh.
But I firmly believe that just as God knows people like Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hutchins who seem determined to go to hell, God gave them the same chance to believe as you and I have. God gave them the choice and they refused to believe—even to the point of trying to convince others that God doesn’t exist. And either God already has or eventually it seems, God will say concerning them as concerning Pharaoh, I have hardened their heart. If you want a place without God who IS love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, and total well-being, you can go to hell where none of that can exist and you can experience the opposite. How can a loving God do this? How can a loving God NOT allow their choice against Him to stand? Let’s just make sure that we don’t say “no” to God so often that He affirms our self-destructive positions.
Now, Pharaoh’s hardness also leads into an interesting coincidence. Egypt had its own text about an overthrow of the kingdom. Guess what the prediction was? In the so-called Coffin Texts, there is a prediction that the kingdom will fall when the Son of Horus could no longer protect the children. So, the attack on the firstborn of all Egypt (except those who were covered by the blood—again, personal and meaningful choice) was a direct attack on Pharaoh’s authority. And where did God strike? Right where it hurt Pharaoh most and the same place God had been hurt. God claimed all of Israel as His FIRSTBORN, God’s own heir and privileged child.
Yet, things get even trickier. (again, my translation) (v. 24) And it happened in the wilderness in the lodging place and Yahweh (God whom Moses knew personally) proceeded to encounter him and He proceeded to seek (ritually) to kill him. (v. 25) And Zipporah (whose name means “bird”) took a flint (as a knife) and cut off the foreskin of her son and threw it at His feet (or “his” meaning Moses’ feet) and she proceeded to say, ‘BECAUSE a bridegroom of blood you are to me!’ (v. 26) And He withdrew from him and she said, ‘a bridegroom of blood for the sake of the circumcision.’”
I would be less than honest if I were to neglect to tell you that some manuscripts have tried to soften this account. Some try to make this the “angel of the Lord” instead of God Himself. It looks like some well-meaning scribe couldn’t handle the idea that God Himself would come after Moses after He had commissioned him and couldn’t get rid of God’s personal name, so he added the word for “messenger” or “angel.” But it doesn’t solve the problem. If God had a renegade angel running around trying to kill Moses without God’s authority, such an angel wouldn’t be called God’s messenger or God’s angel. It might be an evil spirit, a demon, or a false god in the language of the Bible, but it wouldn’t be an angel of the Lord, an angel of Yahweh.
So, what do we make of this? Is Yahweh, God of all, just a capricious god like the gods of the later Greeks and Romans or the gods of the Egyptians and the Canaanites? Does God have a human-like schizophrenia that causes Him to have “buyer’s remorse” whenever He chooses someone? Obviously, I don’t believe so.
So, why do we have this strange little adventure? Why does God vote for Moses on the divine ballot and then, try to assassinate him later? For that matter, why does God move Jacob back to the land of promise and then, wrestle with him in the only recorded death match in the history recorded in God’s Word? Why would God tell Balaam that he can go prophesy to Balak as long as the old wizard would speak the words God would give him and then, God came as the angel of the Lord and tried to kill him THREE times?
I believe the answer is essentially the same in all three cases. Just because God calls us or permits us to do something, doesn’t mean that we can afford to be complacent about it. Jacob’s return to the land of the promise was risky. If Jacob didn’t learn to be a little less conniving and little less arrogant, the old sibling feud would fire up and Esau would kill him. But when Jacob (“Cheater”) wrestled with God, he became Israel (“Struggler with God”) and limped physically for the rest of his life. Even if Esau had wanted to slaughter his brother for old time’s sake, was he going to slaughter a cripple? Jacob learned something from God in his experience and Jacob became less of a threat to Esau in the experience. And God, by seeming to oppose Jacob and put him in a life-threatening situation, brought about a reunion and safely put Israel where God wanted him.
Balaam had already been told that he shouldn’t serve Balak. When Balak increased the “signing bonus,” God allowed Balaam to go and prophesy with the very serious proviso that Balaam would only say the words that God put in his mouth. Then, God threatens Balaam with death. I believe this was intended to be a reminder to Balaam that he would definitely be killed if he didn’t speak the exact words that God put in his mouth. When God “rescues” Balaam, it is through the auspices of a “dumb” animal which would normally, naturally, have no capability of speech. But God “puts the words” in the donkey’s mouth. And Balaam knows that God has put the words in the donkey’s mouth and it serves as a warning. Later, when Balak complains that Balaam isn’t earning his contract price, Balaam reminds him that he said from the beginning he’d have to speak only the words that God would put in his mouth.
And now, the main course…Moses. Here, we have Moses who has been commissioned by God Himself to lead Israel out into the wilderness to sacrifice, to renew the covenant with God, and to prepare to take the land of promise. Here, we have Moses who has stood with bare feet on holy ground. Here, we have Moses who is to be the vessel God will use to institute the entire national and religious establishment of Israel. And Moses’ own son has not been dedicated to God. Moses’ own son violates the covenant.
Why hasn’t Moses’ son been circumcised? Was Moses following the tradition of his father-in-law, Jethro? Did the Midianites, like some ancient tribes, withhold circumcision until puberty (hence, the “bridegroom” reference?)? Did the Midianites not practice circumcision at all, but Zipporah recognized that Moses had been circumcised before they were married (indeed, probably on the eighth day?) and that their son was not, so she took the flint knife into her own hands? We don’t know.
But we do know that God wanted His people circumcised. We do know that Moses should have known the tradition concerning his father, Abraham, and he would have known how circumcision fit into that tradition. But for some reason, Moses hadn’t taken care of getting his own family right with God. For some reason, Moses had held back.
And if you learn anything from this passage at all, it should be that it is dangerous to hold back anything from what God wants. Not only are we unprepared to win victories within God’s power and experience the joy of fellowship with God when we hold things back, but when God commands something, it is for our own good. And, because we are people of free choice, we tend to resent what God commands for our own good, just like we used to hate it when our parents narrowed our options for our own good.
But just as it was dangerous for us as children to “touch that” when our parents had said it was hot, it was dangerous for Moses to charge off to perform God’s bidding—even with the wondrous bag of tricks God had given him—without becoming pure by obeying God’s command. It is dangerous to be so complacent about our relationship with God that we are no longer sensitive to unclean, undone, and unredeemed areas of our lives. And I believe that’s the point Moses had reached. God confronted him with potential death and it so frightened his loving wife that she reacted with boldness and bravery to do the only thing she knew to do. She made her son conform to God’s plan.
Symbolically, she did two things right. First, she performed a circumcision that clearly identified her child as part of Israel, God’s chosen people. Second, she threw the bloody foreskin at someone’s feet so that the blood symbolized a covering, a payment for whatever was wrong. The Hebrew text is unclear whether she threw the bloody skin at Moses’ feet so that his son’s bloody foreskin protected him like the lamb’s blood on the doorpost would later protect all of Israel or whether God had appeared in human form (like the “angel” with whom Jacob wrestled) and she threw the bloody skin at God’s feet as, essentially, a vicarious sacrifice. Frankly, it doesn’t matter. The obedience was right and the power of the blood was right. God accepted it and the problem was averted.
You see, God doesn’t want to have to judge us. God doesn’t want to have to cut our potential short. But we allow many dangerous matters of disobedience in our lives. As a result, God sometimes has to bring us near-death or merely dangerous experiences to bring us back to our foundation—obedience and dependence upon the blood (for us, the blood of Christ, but blood nonetheless).
I also see a cautionary word with regard to human relationships, here. When Zipporah calls Moses a “bridegroom of blood,” I don’t think it’s a term of endearment. She’s not calling him her “bloody pookykins.” I think she’s been traumatized and is disgusted by the whole thing. In Hebrew, you have to pay attention to the repetition. In this case, it’s the idea of “bridegroom of blood” that is repeated. In fact, it appears that she separated herself from Moses after this because, in Exodus 18:2, the next time Zipporah is mentioned by name in the Old Testament, Jethro is bringing her and her sons to meet Moses in the wilderness.
So, here’s my cautionary word. God can forgive us when we fail to be cleansed and prepared to do His will. God can let us survive when we bring ourselves into bad situations by our own irresponsibility. The blood of Christ (for us believers) can wash away all sin and danger, but God doesn’t always remove the consequences.
Human sin, whether by design or negligence, can bring about unwanted consequences: unwed mothers, lasting diseases, traumatized spouses and families, broken families, broken careers, and missed opportunities. And I believe that Moses had been negligent with regard to circumcision and I believe that negligence both endangered his life and mission, as well as disrupting his marriage.
This is a tough passage. It isn’t preached on or taught on very often. It challenges us to think and pray. At its most basic, however, it shows us that God wants what is best for us, but doesn’t force-feed us. God doesn’t keep us spiritually alive with feeding tubes and breathing machines. God gets personally involved with those He loves, always has and always will.
Let us vow to be cleansed, forgiven, obedient, prepared, and available. Only then can we grow in God’s grace enough to come anywhere near our full potential.
