Who is “the angel of God”? It’s Jesus.
“What’s wrong, Hagar?” asked Jesus, just as centuries later He would ask His disciples, “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?” (Matthew 8:26). Referring to the Sea of Galilee, He said, “Let us go over to the other side” (Matthew 8:18). He hadn’t said, “Let us sink out in the middle,” or “Let us go down in an attempt.” No, Jesus had given the word to His disciples that they would indeed make it to the other side. So too, Jesus had already told Hagar that Ishmael would be blessed (Genesis 16). Thus, the Lord here lovingly rebukes Hagar, “Didn’t I give you My word, Hagar? Have you already forgotten?”
What Word has God given to us? He’s told us all things work together for good (Romans 8:28), that He will never leave us nor forsake us (Hebrews 13:5), that He will give us the desires of our hearts (Psalm 37:4). He’s told us that our sins are forgiven (1 John 1:9), that His love for us is everlasting (Jeremiah 31:3), and that we are more than conquerors (Romans 8:37). Therefore, “what aileth” us?
As I read this, I was reminded of a journal entry I made recently during an Alaskan cruise on which I was speaking . . .
So many blessings, so many thoughts while cruising these waters of Alaska’s inland passage and seeing the mountains tower above us, the stars shining over us, the unseen but teeming life beneath us. I am deeply impacted. Not only by His majesty, creativity, power, and glory, but especially and surprisingly by His humility; for this majestic, creative-beyond-genius Being tells us that He stretches the heavens out like a curtain (Isaiah 40:22), He sits upon the circle of the earth (Isaiah 40:22), He measures the heavens with the span of His hand (Isaiah 40:12), yet He did not give us the take-your-breath-away data, facts, and figures of the size of other stars, the range of our galaxy, the puniness of our planet in comparison to the billions and trillions of other objects. He simply allows the vastness of space, the mysteries beneath the sea, and the power of the atom that He holds together (Colossians 1:17) to slowly be discovered. As man’s technology and ability increases, he only discovers more wonder. And I wonder at His humility. I would have laid it all out, let it be known what I have done, how great I am, with facts and figures and data. But God allowed Himself to be discovered, uncovered, in due season. And that season will fill all eternity. Real power, true genius, creative ingenuity, spiritual authority, if indeed real, can wait, indeed should wait to be discovered slowly, quietly. For only what is real can dare to wait. And only what is humble will ultimately be exalted.
God is the epitome of humility. Only true greatness can be humble. And that’s what Abraham is showing us as well. He doesn’t try to prove he’s a great guy. He just goes about his work, and after years of observation, Abimelech says, “I can see that God is with you.”
As your margin notes may indicate, Abraham planted a tamarisk tree - and in so doing, he finds a creative, spontaneous, and innovative way of worshiping.
When my son Benjamin was three years old, he came out of his room one day holding a picture attached to a helium balloon.
“What’s that, Benny?” I asked.
“It’s a picture of me and Jesus,” he said, as he went out into the backyard, let his balloon go, and watched as it soared Heavenward.
Such is innovative, creative worship from the heart of one who loves God.
When you love God, it’s not enough just to sing the same songs as everyone else. It’s not enough to go through the motions during worship sessions.
A lover of God finds a way to plant a tree and say, “Lord, this is for You.”
A lover of God finds a way to break the alabaster box and say, “This is my dowry, and I’m giving it to You” (see Mark 14).
A lover of God finds a way to dance in his undergarments before the Lord (2 Samuel 6:14).
A lover of God finds ways of fresh, personal, intimate expressions others may never see.
Sitting only a couple hundred feet above the city of Jerusalem, Mount Moriah is technically only a ridge. But when the Lord said to Abraham, “I want you to take your son, your only son, to Mount Moriah,” father and son set off on the greatest mountain climbing expedition in world history, second only to the one another Father and Son would make to the very same destination centuries later.
Put yourself in Abraham’s sandals and you will see this is an incredible journey, for God had asked him to sacrifice his son - his only son, the promised son, the one of whom he was so proud, the one in whom he saw such potential. How could Abraham have had such a heart to obey such a command? I couldn’t have done it. But Abraham did.
How? The reason Abraham could climb Mount Moriah is the same reason Sir Edmund Hillary could climb Mount Everest. You see, prior to Hillary’s ascent up Mount Everest, he spent five years acclimating his body to the altitude, five years allowing his lungs to expand to deal with the lack of oxygen he would encounter at that height, five years to get in shape, and five years to make preparations and gather gear.
So too, Abraham would climb an infinitely higher mountain because, like Hillary’s team, there had been great preparation.
“It came to pass after these things that God did tempt, or test, Abraham” (22:1). After what things? Fifty-seven years of things . . .
Leaving his home in Ur for a land God would show him was step number one in training for the Moriah moment.
Saying goodbye to his nephew as Lot headed for Sodom was step number two.
Refusing the spoils of battle offered to him by the king of Sodom was step number three.
Obeying God’s command to send his son Ishmael into the desert was step number four.
Nothing in Scripture is accidental or incidental. Thus, when we read, “It came to pass after these things that God did tempt Abraham,” it means that the testing didn’t take place until after these things - each of which prepared Abraham for this moment.
God will never, ever give you a test He has not thoroughly and painstakingly prepared you to navigate successfully. Never.
We look at Abraham’s Moriah moment and think, I couldn’t do that. And we’re right. We couldn’t, because God hasn’t prepared us for that - yet.
Paul tells us there are three great virtues: faith, hope, and love (1 Corinthians 13:13). Abraham’s faith was developed first when God called him out of Ur.
By faith Abraham, when he was called to go out into a place which he should after receive for an inheritance, obeyed; and he went out, not knowing whither he went. - Hebrews 11:8
But God didn’t stop there, for He proceeded to build hope into Abraham, as Abraham waited for his promised son . . .
Who against hope believed in hope, that he might become the father of many nations; according to that which was spoken, So shall thy seed be. - Romans 4:18
Nor did God stop there, for the greatest of these is love. Our text contains the first use of the word love in Scripture. It’s as if God is saying, “Let go of the one you love because of greater love for Me. This is a chance for you to take a quantum leap in growth.”
If you say, “I don’t want faith or hope or love. I want to be frazzled and afraid and frustrated,” don’t go down the path that leads to Moriah, the path that leads you on a journey of trials and testing. But if you want to be entire and complete, lacking nothing, there’s only one way . . .
My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. - James 1:2–4
There’s no other way to be complete than to say “okay” to tests, temptations, and trials.
It’s as if God says to Abraham, “I’ve prepared you to do something which may seem unbelievably difficult because I want to show people a picture of My Son. Even though it will be difficult for you, Abraham, your trial will touch multiple millions of people throughout history.”
Gang, your Christian life will change radically when it finally sinks in that God does not exist for you. Most believers go through a chunk of time believing God does indeed exist for them. “Bless my marriage. Bless my house. Bless my job. Give me abundant life. Give me joyful days,” we pray, as if God exists for our pleasure.
With mountains on either side of them, their backs to the Red Sea, and Pharaoh’s army barreling down on them, Moses cried to the Lord.
“Know this, Moses,” He answered, “I will get me honour upon Pharaoh, and upon all his hosts. . . . And the Egyptians shall know that I am the LORD.” In other words, “Moses, this isn’t about you or even the people with you. I’ve got work to do. I want to show the Egyptians who I am. To do that, I’m putting you in a tight spot, a tough place. But word will get back to the Egyptians that there is no God like the God of Israel” (see Exodus 14:17–18).
So too, God says to us:
“I’ve got a big job for you - to let people around you know who I am. This means the doctor may say, ‘It’s cancer.’ This means the business may go under. This means the relationship may not work out, that people might see how in your pain, in your difficulty, or in your dilemma I come through not to solve your problem, but to be with you in your problem. I will show Myself in the way that can most effectively reach the people I want to reach through your life. That may mean you go through real problems physically or that things don’t work out in the way you thought they would in your family. It may even mean death. But it’s not about you. I love you deeply, but there’s a bigger thing happening than your comfort.”
Because we exist for God, gang (not the other way around), our part is to say, “However He wants to direct His drama on the stage of my life, be it a comedy or a tragedy, so be it.”
Abraham was the friend of God (James 2:23). Why, then, would God ask Abraham to sacrifice his son? Friends don’t let friends have Moriah moments - or do they?
Paul put it this way:
That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death. - Philippians 3:10
Most of us long for the power of Jesus’ Resurrection, but know little about the fellowship of His sufferings. Yet the power of His Resurrection doesn’t come without the fellowship of His sufferings.
I love to laugh with people. But the people I’m closest to are not the ones with whom I’ve only laughed. They are also the ones with whom I’ve shed tears. The same is true for you. There’s a closeness that occurs when people navigate deep waters together.
Thus, God the Father says to Abraham, “I want you to experience something of what I will do because when you do, you and I will be bonded together uniquely.”
There they were - walking around in the fiery furnace.
“How many men did we throw in?” asked Nebuchadnezzar.
“Three,” said one of his aides.
“Then how is it that I see four, and the fourth is like the Son of God?” asked Nebuchadnezzar.
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego could have come out anytime they wanted. But they didn’t come out until Nebuchadnezzar commanded them to because it was in the fire where they had fellowship with the Lord, a vision of the Lord, and a closeness to the Lord they had never before known (Daniel 3).
You have found this to be true as well. It’s when you’re in the fire of affliction and adversity that you have real communion. Don’t fear, flock. Don’t shy away from the Moriahs that loom over you. God will train you. And when you’re there, He’ll see you through.
Even though he was a giant of a man, the friend of God, the father of faith, we see Abraham was also a man who mourned and wept. This being the first mention of weeping or tears in the Bible, God waits until chapter 23 to introduce this concept. It’s curious to me that there is no record of tears at the fall of man, when the flood came, or when the people were scattered at Babel. The Holy Spirit purposefully waits to record weeping until the time a giant of a spiritual man was separated from a godly woman.
“Put Thou my tears into Thy bottle,” David wrote. “Are they not in Thy book?” (Psalm 56:8). Evidently, God keeps scrapbooks in Heaven. Malachi 3:16 tells us every time one of His children talks to another person about Him, God hearkens to it and writes it in a book. And here, we see Him keeping another book - a book of our tears.
Concerning hard times, God doesn’t say, “Deal with it.” He says, “I understand what you’re going through. It’s precious to Me.”
In Jesus’ day, women wore tear bottles - little vials which fit against their cheek and caught their tears. A very precious possession, a woman would give this bottle of tears to the one she loved most. It could be this practice to which the account of the woman washing Jesus’ feet with her tears refers (Luke 7:38).
Tears are unique. Under a microscope, you’ll see the saline crystals in a tear are shaped in the form of a cross. It’s as if the Lord is saying, “I understand. I know. I wept too” (see John 11:35).
“You’re a mighty prince,” said the children of Heth to Abraham. This intrigues me because although Abraham lived very simply in a tent, he had a huge impact on the heathen. Abraham’s nephew Lot, on the other hand, wanted to be involved in the cultural climate of Sodom. Yet when he tried to correct them, so little did they think of him that the men of Sodom said, “Who are you?” (see Genesis 19:9).
You might hear the saying, “You’re so Heavenly minded, you’re no earthly good.” Abraham proves just the opposite - that you’re no earthly good until you’re Heavenly minded. If you want to make a difference on earth, your focal point, priority, and passion should be that of one who lives for eternity.
Often, people wonder how God will lead them. “How will I know whether to take that job, get involved in this relationship, or take on a new ministry?” they ask.
Here, Abraham’s servant says, “Being in the way, the Lord led me.” I find his phraseology interesting, for centuries later, Jesus would declare, “I am the way” (John 14:6); and the early Church itself was called “the Way” (see Acts 19:23).
If you are walking in the Way, gang, and if you’re obeying Jesus, you will end up at the right spot. You don’t have to waste your time struggling and striving to find God’s will. Simply walk day by day in the Way, and as He did with Abraham’s servant, the Lord will also lead you.
Knowing that his father had sent the servant to find a bride for him, Isaac doesn’t go and look for her himself. According to Jewish tradition, the father would arrange the marriage of his son. Upon agreement of both fathers, the bride and groom-to-be would then be betrothed at a simple ceremony in which cups of wine were exchanged and a dowry was given. Then the son would return to his father’s house to build a dwelling place for his bride either close to or adjoining the house of his father. When the father deemed all had been properly prepared, he would send his son out to call for his bride - and she would run out to join him.
“In my Father’s house are many mansions,” Jesus, our Bridegroom, said. “I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also” (John 14:2–3).
When will this day be? “No man knows the day or the hour - not even Me,” Jesus answered (see Mark 13:32).
But this much is sure: Like the brides of old, when our Bridegroom calls for us, we will run to meet Him not in the streets, but in the air (1 Thessalonians 4).
Most of us are watching for the Lord. But there is something more important than that. That is, the Lord (as seen in the person of Isaac, being at the well of Lahai-roi, or “The Lord sees”) is watching for us. The Lord longs for us more than we long for Him. Why? Because while we can only speculate concerning the wonderful things God has prepared for those who love Him (1 Corinthians 2:9), He knows all about them and is eager to share them with us.
I believe the names of the sons born to Abraham and Keturah parallel the prophetic picture of the people of Israel. You see, when the Church is taken up in the rapture, the veil will be lifted from the eyes of the Jewish people, and all of Israel will be saved at the end of the tribulation. Then, she will play a primary role as God rules and reigns from Jerusalem in the Millennial Kingdom (Revelation 20). What a glorious time that will be! Nature will be restored to what it was originally meant to be: the mountains shall sing; the trees of the field shall clap their hands; the lion will lie down with the lamb. Not only will nature react, but also a complete disarmament by all nations and people will result in swords being turned into plowshares and spears into pruninghooks (Isaiah 2:4).
But wait. There’s a dark side, as seen in the sons of Keturah. Zimran means “Song.” Jokshan means “Snare.” Medan means “Strife.” Midian means “Contention.” Ishbak means “Man will leave.” Shuah means “From the pit.” What begins with a song ends in the pit.
You see, Scripture tells us man will live to be one thousand years old in the Millennial Kingdom. Consequently, the world’s population will mushroom. At the end of the Millennial Kingdom, multiplied generations that have never known anything but perfect harmony will become bored with peace, love, and prosperity. Thus, perfection will be a snare to them. Strife and contention will follow. Although many of them will want to do their own thing and leave the way of the Lord, they’ll not be able to because righteousness will be enforced in the Millennial Kingdom. But because God will not force His will on anyone, He will allow Satan to be released from the pit for a short season at the end of the millennium. Satan will lead a rebellion before he is cast permanently into the lake of fire, along with those who, bored with perfection, choose to follow him.
Although the names of Abraham and Keturah’s sons paint a prophetic portrait, they also point to a very practical principle. That is, we too live in the age of the Kingdom of God, not where the lion is lying down with the lamb externally, but internally where righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost abound (Romans 14:17). This being the case, like those living in the Millennial Kingdom, we are at risk of taking the righteousness, peace, and joy of the present Kingdom for granted.
Dear brother, precious sister, may we never be those who take lightly the work God has done in our hearts; for if we stop singing the sweet song of salvation, we will become ensnared in strife and contention, and be lured away from the rule of our King by lies from the pit.
Here we see Abraham disposing of his wealth to his son Isaac even as the Father in Heaven gave all things to His Son (John 17).
Because all things will find their ultimate destination in Christ, anything I do that isn’t for Him results in hopelessness, while everything I do for and in Jesus positions me in the center of God’s will.
How does this work practically?
Suppose you are a UPS driver. God’s will for you is that you be a UPS driver for His glory. As you pull up to every stop, pray that God will bless those inside. And suddenly, your job will not be a matter of how many deliveries you can make in a day, but of how many people God can bless through you in a day. Whether you’re a teacher, a realtor, a mechanic, a doctor, or a homemaker, allow God to use you in and through your profession to bring Him glory. To the extent that you do this in any given day is the extent to which you will experience purpose and deep contentment.
“The days of the years” is a Hebrew phrase which speaks of quality of life, which is made up of days - individual, specific days. In his 64,000 days, Abraham, the friend of God, walked with God. The Christian life is not called the Christian leap, the Christian jump, or the Christian bounce. It’s called the Christian walk because it takes place one step and one day at a time.
What am I going to do tomorrow? Will I choose to walk with God, or do I expect somehow to bounce, leap, skip, or hop and end up a spiritual man at age fifty? What I do today will affect how I arrive at the end of my life. One of the greatest misconceptions in spiritual life is that when we’re old, we’ll automatically be spiritual. I need to know God’s Word today. I need to know God’s ways today. If I don’t, the end of my life will find me nothing more than an old fool.
We see Ishmael and Isaac brought together at the death of their father Abraham because true reconciliation can only happen through death.
God reconciled us to Himself through His own death (2 Corinthians 5:18–19). Then, once we were reconciled, He gave us the ministry of reconciliation - to reconcile people to God as we share with them the good news of the Gospel, and also to reconcile people to each other.
So important is reconciliation to Jesus that He said something quite shocking: “If, while you are at the altar worshiping the Lord, you become aware that something is not quite right with someone you know or once knew, leave the altar and reconcile yourself to the one who is offended” (see Matthew 5:23-24).
The Greek word translated “reconcile” is diallasso - a word used by tailors and garment-makers with regard to alteration. Thus, Jesus was saying, “If, at the altar, you realize a relationship doesn’t fit right, get it altered.” In other words, the ill-fitting garment is not to be discarded, taken to Goodwill, or stuffed in the back of the closet and forgotten. “If a relationship isn’t right,” Jesus declared, “I want you to deal with that matter before you continue to worship.”
How will reconciliation happen practically? There’s only one way: someone has to die. If there’s to be reconciliation with your wife, your husband, your daughter-in-law, your boss, your coach, or your neighbor, you have to die.
“I don’t want to die,” we protest. “How come she can’t die? It’s his turn to die. I’m sick and tired of dying. Why does it have to be me?”
I recently met with dear friends. He’s been a pastor for years; she’s a godly woman with a passion for Jesus. But they’re on their way to divorce. And it’s a tragedy. There’s no real issue - just irritations that have grown over the years. Both argued their points, yet as the hours passed, all I could say was, “One of you has to die or there will be no reconciliation.”
Their answer? “Why me? It’s his turn. It’s her turn.”
Many couples drive to church in virtually the same situation. As the husband sits behind the wheel, his words are few, but his thoughts are many. “Why is she so cold?” he wonders. Meanwhile, as she sits on her side of the car, hugging the door handle, she thinks, “Why is he so demanding?”
And the silence is deafening, broken only by the sounds of construction on the wall between them, which is growing higher and higher every day. They come to church and lift their hands in worship, but the Lord would say, “If you’re bringing your gift to the altar and you remember that he or she has something against you, don’t even continue worshiping until you alter the hurtful situation.”
1. Reconciliation delights our Father.
Every parent knows the delight of reconciliation. When I hear one of my kids say to another, “It’s your turn. You go first,” all I can say is, “Glory hallelujah! The age of miracles is not over! These kids are working it out. They’re dying to self. They’re letting the other have their way!”
If you are fortunate enough to have a child who goes out of his way to be a peacemaker, you know the place he has in your heart. So too, any one of us who says, “I’m going to die so that there can be reconciliation,” brings a great deal of joy to the heart of the Father.
2. Reconciliation defeats our foe.
Satan has one tactic he’s used from the very beginning: division. As the worship leader of the angelic chorus, Lucifer persuaded one-third of the angels to see things his way. They joined his rebellion and are now demons, destined for eternal damnation. Because Satan’s strategy remains the same, he who says, “I will die before I allow separation between me and another” deals a deathblow to Satan. The person who binds Satan is not the one who loudly declares, “I bind you, Satan.” The person who binds Satan is the one who dies to self and reconciles with another person. The binding of Satan comes about not through a statement we make verbally, but through a choice we make actively.
3. Reconciliation destroys our flesh.
The reason we’re depressed, the reason for the gnawing ache within us is found in one word: flesh. We think if we could indulge or pamper our flesh, we’d be happier. The opposite, however, is true. Jesus taught that the one who loses his life will find it (Matthew 10:39); that the one who follows Him must deny himself and take up his cross (Matthew 16:24).
The cross you are to bear is not getting the flu or losing your job. It’s not even divorce or death in your family - as tragic as those events are. The cross is not something that comes uninvited. Rather, it’s something we choose to do which causes pain and agony to our flesh. The cross is what Jesus endured when He prayed, “Not My will, but Thine be done.”
“I’m tired of being married to her,” or “I’m tired of my dad treating me this way,” or “I’m tired of my in-laws. Nevertheless, Lord, not my will but Thine be done. And Your will is that there be reconciliation, which means I must die.” That’s the cross.
The Roman soldier knew Jesus had died when he struck a spear in His side and there was no reaction other than the blood and water that flowed forth. So too, when that person with whom you’ve had a hard time pokes you yet again and you don’t respond, you don’t react, and you don’t retaliate, you’ll know you’ve died to your flesh.
Designed to be the most torturous death possible, crucified victims would often hang on a cross for two or three days before they died. Jesus hung on the Cross for six hours. He was in a hurry because He knew the sooner He died and completed the work of redemption, the sooner Easter Sunday would come! What if He had decided to struggle hour after hour, day after day? Easter couldn’t happen until He died. That’s why He said, “If you deny yourself, you’ll have life. But if you seek to hang on to your life, you’ll only prolong your misery.”
Precious people, it’s not that we have to die. It’s that we get to. Will you be the one today who loves God so much that you will delight Him by dying to your rights, your way, your self?
If so, reconciliation is sure to follow as you race toward Resurrection day.
The term “springing water” is correctly rendered “living water” in some translations. “If any man thirst,” Jesus said, “let him come unto Me, and drink, and out of his innermost being shall gush forth torrents of living water. This spake He of the Holy Ghost” (see John 7:37–39). When did Isaac find living water? When he was in the valley. That’s often the way it is. At least it was for me . . .
As a twenty-year-old teaching the book of Jonah at a junior-high retreat, it hit me in the middle of my teaching that I didn’t care at all about the kids sitting before me. It was as if the Lord held up a mirror and I saw the ugliness of my soul. I saw that I wanted to teach, but that I didn’t care about those whom I was teaching. I realized, much to my dismay, that they were just a means for me to do what I wanted to do. Here I was, studying for the ministry, involved in teaching and serving, and yet I knew my heart was calloused and hard. At the end of the weekend, in deep despair, I hopped in my van and drove for a couple of days. I finally pulled into the parking lot of the church I was attending - Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa. As I did, I saw a pastor I recognized from the Saturday night concerts there. His name was Tom Stipe.
“You need the Holy Spirit,” he said. He laid hands on me, prayed for me, and something happened. I felt a warm sensation in my inner being, and I began to worship the Lord in a way I had never done before.
That was a huge watershed for me. I understood that, although previously I had the Holy Spirit inside of me, I lacked the overflow of the Spirit through me. And so I say to you, if you are in a valley spiritually, you’re in the perfect place to find the living water because it’s there in the valley where you recognize your own inadequacy. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness - those who realize their need - for they shall be filled” (see Matthew 5:6).
When, like Isaac, you say, “I want to be used to water the flock around me,” be it your family, your friends, your neighbors, or a Sunday school class, the Lord will truly empower you in a fresh and dynamic way (Acts 1:8).
Now that Isaac had found living water in the valley, was everything smooth sailing for him from that point on? No, Esek means “Contention.” It was immediately after Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River - where He was filled with the power and presence of the Holy Spirit - that He was led to the desert to be tempted and challenged by Satan. So too, when we are filled with the living water of the Spirit, we must understand that challenges are sure to follow.
Again, Isaac found water, and again he was challenged - thus the name Sitnah, or “Hated.”
With the exception of Moses, there is not a man in the Old Testament meeker than Isaac. After all, when Ishmael taunted and teased him, did Isaac fight back? No. When his dad laid him on the altar to sacrifice him, did thirty-year-old Isaac try to escape? No. When his father’s servant selected a bride for him, did Isaac question his choice? No. When Abimelech rebuked him, did he rationalize his cowardice? No. When his water rights were challenged, did he stand his ground? No.
“Blessed are the meek,” Jesus said, “for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5). And here we see that happening. Isaac is a man of remarkable meekness. And he will indeed inherit earthly blessings.
As I look back, I see my own life as a series of digging wells and moving on, until finally I found my Rehoboth, for Rehoboth means “Room.” Over the years, I’ve watched lots of talented men and women who had an anointing, a calling, and a gifting miss great opportunities because they dug a well and there was strife. When they dug a second one, there was contention. Yet, instead of digging a third well, they gave up, thinking, “What’s the use? I won’t be used. Why go on?” God’s plan is that we keep digging, keep digging, keep digging until we find our Rehoboth, where there’s room.
Every one of you, without exception, has a Rehoboth awaiting you. But the Enemy will try to discourage you through contention and strife. Why does God allow this to happen? Because He has a twofold task: not only to prepare a place for you, but to prepare you for the place. This means you’ll go through some trying times, some stretching points, and some questions, but you must not throw in the towel, or the trowel. You keep digging, move down the road, dig again, move down the road, dig again, and eventually you’ll find your Rehoboth. I promise.
It was clear that Jacob was to be the blessed one (Genesis 25:23). Because Rebekah knew this, when she heard Isaac was about to bless Esau, we see her doing what you and I can fall into oh, so easily: knowing God’s Word and doing God’s work, but not in God’s way. You might have a sincere heart and pure motives in wanting to see God’s work done in the ministry or in your family, but God’s work must be done God’s way. Ask Moses . . .
Wanting to see his Israelite brothers set free from the tyranny of the Egyptians, one day when Moses saw an Egyptian beating one of the Hebrew children, he rescued his Hebrew brother and killed the Egyptian, thinking he would be a hero in the eyes of the Hebrew people. But because God didn’t direct Moses to do this, the end result was the rejection of Moses by the very people he was trying to help (Exodus 2:11–14).
God’s work must be done God’s way. Ask David . . .
He knew the people would be blessed, and the glory of God would be experienced if the Ark of the Covenant was brought into the capital city of Jerusalem. To transport the Ark from where it was, six miles outside of Jerusalem, David built a cart and stationed a man named Uzzah, or “Strong,” upon it. In front of the Ark, leading the way was a man named Ahio, or “Friendly.” It was a great set-up. Mr. Strong controlled the cart; Mr. Friendly led the way. It seemed like such a wonderful way to bring in the glory of God. But you know the story. On the way, the cart hit a rut in the road, and the Ark began to wobble. Thinking he had better give God a hand, Uzzah reached out to stabilize the Ark. But when his hand touched it, God killed him (2 Samuel 6).
Completely disheartened, David pouted for several months. But when he got back in the Word again, he discovered that the Ark of the Covenant was to be carried on the shoulders of priests rather than on a cart. Why? Because carts are nothing more than boards and big wheels, whereas priests are people who praise and pray. All too often, people call board meetings and bring in big wheels to make God’s work happen. But such is the Philistine mentality. God’s way is to work through people who praise and pray.
Although Jacob didn’t sound like Esau, he felt like Esau. Therefore he must be Esau, thought Isaac, trusting his senses rather than the word that he heard.
Joshua made the same mistake when, rather than asking “counsel at the mouth of the LORD” (Joshua 9:14), he decided to sign a peace treaty with the Gibeonites based solely on the fact that he could see that their sandals were worn and that their bread was moldy.
Whenever we make decisions based upon what we feel, what we smell, or what we see rather than upon what we hear in the Word, we will be deceived. If an experience, trend, or phenomenon isn’t seen in the New Testament record of the life of Christ and of His Church, it’s Jacob parading as Esau, and we will be as deceived as Isaac was if we choose to follow our senses rather than the Word.
Abraham sent a servant to find a bride for his son, Isaac. Isaac, however, sent his son Jacob to find his own bride. So too, Paul would write, “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure” (Philippians 2:12–13).
Your salvation is going to be worked out or exercised a little bit differently than the salvation of the person sitting next to you or of the generation that went before you. Oh, we’re all saved by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. But it’s all going to work out a little bit differently in each of us.
This allows me to give freedom to people whose salvation is being worked out a little differently than mine might be. We can give each other lots of space because, within the parameters of grace and faith, God deals with each of us uniquely.
“God is here, and I didn’t know it.” Why wouldn’t Jacob know this? Because of his circumstances. He knew he was nothing but a conniver, hiding out in a seemingly God-forsaken, rocky region.
That may be your story today. You may feel like you’re stuck in a rocky situation, a rocky marriage, rocky finances, or on a rocky road. But God would say to you today, “I’m with you in this place, even though you may not know it.”
What can separate us from the love of God? Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature (Romans 8:38–39). Why? Because there is no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1). There is no separation because there is no condemnation. Why is there no condemnation? Because Jesus Christ - our hero, our Lord - took all of the sin that would separate us from the Father - the sins we committed last year, the sins we’re committing now, and the sins we’ll commit tomorrow - and paid for them all.
If you find yourself in a rocky situation, you have a choice: you can either say, “God is nowhere,” or like Jacob, you can look at your surroundings, add the space of grace, and with new eyes say, “God is now here.”
If your Bible has margin notes, perhaps you see the phrase “went on his journey” rendered as “lifted up his feet.” In Hebrew, the literal idea is that of “happy feet.” In Genesis 28, God appeared to Jacob, reiterating His promise, presence, and plan for Jacob. As a result, as Jacob heads to Padan-aram, he does so with “happy feet.” He does so with enthusiasm.
Enthusiasm, or en theos, simply means “full of God.” An encounter with God - the giver of joy, the source of all true happiness - manifests itself in a changed walk. And such was Jacob’s case.
How I love to be around people who are enthusiastic, who are full of God. Their faces seem to radiate His joy and I find myself more joyful in their presence, able to continue my own journey with “happy feet.”
Maybe you have been looking to your husband, wife, friend, or pastor to meet the barrenness, emptiness, or lack of productivity in your life. “Meet this need,” you cry, “or I’ll die.” But the reality is, they can’t.
When asked who he was, John the Baptist identified himself by who he was not. “I am not the Christ,” he said. “I’m not the answer. I’m not the Savior. I’m not the solution. My whole role is to point to the One who is the Christ” (see John 1:20).
For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope. - Romans 8:20
For the creature -
You and me
Was made subject to vanity -
Or emptiness
Not willingly -
We don’t want to feel empty
But by reason of Him -
By God’s divine design
Who hath subjected the same in hope -
In order that we would look to Him.
The only way you’ll be truly satisfied is to be extremely close to God, totally dependent on God, and passionately in love with God. Sunday morning Christianity will never fill the hole in your soul. The hunger in your heart can only be filled through intimacy, dependence, and an ever-deepening relationship with the One who created you for His own pleasure (Revelation 4:11).
“Give me children, or else I die. I demand that you give me kids.” Such are the prayers of those who say, “We need to speak the Word and demand from God that we not be barren, but that we be rich, healthy, and successful.”
Wait a minute. When Rachel finally had a son, she named him Joseph. Why? Because Joseph means, “May God add.” In other words, Joseph wasn’t enough. Rachel wanted more.
That’s always the way it is. When you’re looking to something or someone to meet the need of your soul, it’s never enough. And here’s the real irony: as a result of having another son, Rachel did in fact die.
As she was dying in childbirth, what did she say? Not, “Oh, praise God, another son”; not, “Oh Lord, You’re awesome to give this barren woman two children.” No, as she was dying in childbirth, Rachel named her son Ben-oni, or “Son of my sorrow.” The last word on beautiful Rachel’s lips was “sorrow” (Genesis 35:18).
Rachel demanded her way and it killed her.
Why did Rachel’s life end this way? Because she looked to the wrong person and asked in the wrong fashion. So too, a husband, wife, friend, pastor, or parent cannot fill the hole in your soul, because you were created for a deep yet humble relationship with God.
A broken Rachel named her son Ben-oni, “Son of my sorrow.” But a wiser Jacob renamed him Benjamin, “Son of my right hand.” So too, as the Son of Man, Jesus was called the “Man of sorrows” (Isaiah 53:3). But as the Son of God, He sits at the Father’s right hand (Colossians 3:1).
Rachel said, “Give me children, or I die.”
The Father says, “For My children, I will die.”
God says, “I am so in love with you, I’m not demanding something from you, but I’m dying for you. I love you to death. And the sins and mistakes you’ve made so foolishly, I will wash away completely so that you can live with Me eternally.”
As we’ll see in chapter 31, Laban isn’t a believer, yet even he recognizes he has been blessed by God because of Jacob. The number of his herds, flocks, and grandsons had multiplied radically. Everything was going well for Laban. And in a rare moment of honesty, he says to Jacob, “You have brought the Lord’s blessing to my household.”
No wonder Laban wanted Jacob to stay. In addition to being supernaturally blessed, Jacob was industrious - which isn’t surprising since throughout Scripture God often called men who were already hard at work. When they were called to ministry,
Moses was watching his father-in-law’s sheep (Exodus 3:1).
Elisha was plowing behind the oxen (1 Kings 19:19).
Peter was casting his net into the sea (Matthew 4:18).
Matthew was collecting taxes (Matthew 9:9).
“Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus” (Colossians 3:17). “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” Jesus said, “and ordained you” (John 15:16). We’re all in the ministry, gang. Christians must be, can be, get to be the very best workers in whatever field the Lord places them, for then even the Labans will be drawn to the One we serve.
Many times, we’re in a place where we wonder if God is trying to get us to make a move - geographically, professionally, or in ministry. I believe Jacob’s story provides key clues to this question.
First, notice that the situation around Jacob soured. Jacob could see that Laban was no longer looking kindly upon him. So too, the Lord can speak through our circumstances to begin to nudge those who have eyes to see and ears to hear His leading.
Second, the Word of the Lord within Jacob sweetened. As Jacob’s situation soured, the Word within him stirred. The same thing happens today. When the Lord wants to move us, the Scriptures we read day after day all seem to point in that direction.
While Jacob was right in his assessment of Laban’s deceitful ways, he failed to see the most obvious truth about Laban: that is, Laban was in actuality a full-length mirror, a life-size reflection of his own flawed character.
I have discovered that the flaws and faults I see most clearly in others are my own. The more flawed a person is, the more he will see others’ flaws. Jacob will point out over and over that Laban is a deceiver, because it was Jacob’s own tendency to be a deceiver, a conniver, and a cheater. My prayer is that, before I die, God will deliver me from a Jacob mentality and will work in me the agape love that doesn’t even notice when others do wrong (1 Corinthians 13:5).
Both at the beginning and at the conclusion of his prayer (verse 12), Jacob is insistent in that he says, “Lord, You are the One who told me to go back home. You are the One who promised You would save my life.” In so doing, Jacob takes the promises given to him and lifts them back to the Lord in prayer.
This is a great, great key to praying effectively. “Concerning the work of My hands command ye Me,” the Lord declares (Isaiah 45:11).
“Command Him?” you say. “That sounds an awful lot like the ‘name-it-and-claim-it’ mentality.”
However, contextually you will see God is talking about the promises and prophecies He had already made to the people. Listen to what Jesus would say along the same line: “If ye abide in Me, and My words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you” (John 15:7). In other words, “If you’re abiding in Me, hanging around Me, and clinging to Me, you can ask anything of Me because within you will be My Word.”
What word? “Exceeding great and precious promises” (2 Peter 1:4).
It has been said that there are between three and five thousand promises given to us in the Word. Therefore, it is as if God says, “I want you to take these exceedingly great and precious promises, and I want you to command Me.”
Too often, we live like spiritual paupers. We don’t see our families, our friends, or our country being blessed. Why? Because we have not asked (James 4:2). It is only as we pray the promises of God that we are able to draw from the inexhaustible resources the Lord has provided. Jacob understood this. That is why he was insistent in prayer.
Why did God wrestle Jacob? Why does He want to wrestle with you and me? For the same reason I used to wrestle with my sons. It’s something called intimacy. God likes to wrestle things through with me and you because He enjoys us. It’s as if He says to us, “Let’s wrestle this thing through hour after hour, day after day, even month after month because not only will you find that I’ll come through eventually, but in the process, we will develop a wonderful intimacy.”
That’s why the original Greek text makes it clear that we are to “keep asking, keep seeking, keep knocking” (see Matthew 7:7), for that is how intimacy is developed; that is how prayer is answered.
Wrestling provides unique opportunities for discovery. As you measure your strength against that of your opponent, as you assume various positions and are held in numerous holds, you discover things about yourself and your opponent you couldn’t have known otherwise. So too, God invites us to wrestle with Him in order that we might discover things about Him and ourselves we could learn in no other way. As you wrestle in prayer, you might find that what God gives to you and does for you is entirely different than what you had expected. Jacob asked to be blessed, instead he was broken, but the answer was better, because our Father knows best.
Keep on wrestling, gang. You’ll have intimacy with the Lord. You’ll make discoveries about the Lord. And you’ll be changed radically by the Lord in the very process of praying.
Does this mean the Lord didn’t know with whom He was wrestling? No. The Lord knew Jacob’s name, and now He’s giving Jacob an opportunity to be reminded of it as well. You see, years earlier his dad had asked him, “Who are you?”
“I am Esau,” Jacob had answered (Genesis 27:19).
It’s as if the Lord is saying, “Let’s try it again, Jacob. What is your name?”
Perhaps the great majority of people wish they were someone else. Jacob certainly did. “I want to be firstborn. I want the blessing. I want to be Esau,” he said. So too, you can go through life trying to be someone you’re not. You can copy the way she dresses or the way he talks, but it will lead to nothing but frustration until you have come to the moment when, in total honesty, you say, “I’ve tried to be this guy, tried to do that thing, but now I admit who I am. I’m Jacob.”
No sooner does Jacob confess and come clean regarding his true identity than the Lord changes his name entirely - from Jacob to Israel, from “Heel snatcher” to “Governed by God.”
“When did I prevail?” Jacob must have wondered.
And God would answer, “It was when you were broken, when you were pinned by Me, when you were weeping, but wouldn’t let go of Me, when you said, ‘I can’t go through another day without You,’ that’s when you prevailed.”
And that’s when we’ll prevail as well.
To this day, the Orthodox Jews don’t eat the thigh meat of an animal in honor of their great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather Jacob. Thus, down the tunnel of time, Jacob’s descendants commemorate not his cleverness, intelligence, or charisma. They commemorate his pain.
A can-do kind of guy, Jacob was clever, charming, skilled, intelligent - a man any smart CEO would want to hire. God, on the other hand, said, “I have big plans for you, Jacob. You are going to have a huge impact on the history of the world, for from you will come an entire nation. And from that nation will come Messiah. I have big plans for you, but you’re too smart, too self-confident, too clever. Therefore I’m going to break you.”
Dear sister and brother, you must understand that no matter how charming, intelligent, or clever you are, or how good you may be in any given area, your skill is puny, your intelligence is nothing, and your strength is scrawny in comparison to God’s. So God says, “I’m going to allow this pain in your life because then, and only then, will you lean on Me every step of the way, knowing that if you don’t, you’ll fall flat on your face. And as you lean on Me, you’ll draw strength from Me and you’ll be governed by Me instead of trying to make things happen in your own energy.”
“Okay, Lord,” we say. “I understand I have to be broken that I might learn to lean on You. But once I’m broken, can’t You heal me? Once I’ve wrestled with You about a certain issue, can’t You make me like new again?”
I am reminded of the story of another man who was lame . . .
He had laid on the deck of a pool in Jerusalem day after day for thirty-eight years, hoping against hope that somehow, according to tradition, when an angel stirred the waters, he would be the first one in the pool and would be healed. Then, one day a young Rabbi came his way and asked him, “Wilt thou be made whole?”
“I can’t,” he answered, “because I don’t have anyone to help me into the water.”
And then something amazing happened - when the Rabbi told him to take up his bed and walk, the once-lame man was able to do just that.
“Whee!” he said. “I can walk! I can run! I can leap!”
“Hold on,” said some Pharisees who had observed the scene. “It’s the Sabbath day. You’re not supposed to carry your bed on the Sabbath day. Who told you to do this? Who is this One who healed you?”
“Hmm,” said the newly-healed man. “I don’t know. I’m just so happy to be walking. I don’t know who it was” (see John 5:2–13).
That’s the issue, gang. We all would like to be healed, to have the pain go away, to have the hurt be gone. The fact, however, is if that were to happen, like the lame man, we would say, “Whee!” but we wouldn’t know Who. Therefore, the pain stays; the limp continues day after day, year after year, that we might lean on Him, talk to Him, and draw strength and insight from Him, which we would never have received if we were just saying, “Whee!”
Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, the degree to which your kids and grandchildren see you limp through life, leaning on God and drawing from Him strength, character, and depth is the degree to which they will value your legacy. They won’t remember how successful you were in climbing the corporate ladder, how big your bank account was, how skilled you were mechanically, or how gifted you were musically. They will remember what they learned as they watched you limp.
“I know I have to lean on Him,” you might be saying, “but sometimes I lose my way. Sometimes I forget. What do I do then?”
“Do this in remembrance of Me,” Jesus would say to you. “It wasn’t just My hip that was dislocated. My entire body was broken for you.”
Thus, it is at the Cross that I am reminded, in light of what Jesus did for me, that the pain He’s allowing in my life is because He wants my very best. Communion is essential because we can get mixed up; we can get confused by pain and sadness and sorrow. But when we come to the Lord’s Table and are reminded once again of His inexpressible love for us, we gladly exchange the leap of the lame man for the limp of Jacob because it is in limping that we remain close to Him all the days of our lives.
When, at last, Jacob and Esau met again, Esau asked the reason for the gifts Jacob had sent him.
“I sent them to you in order that I might find grace in your sight,” Jacob answered.
And in Jacob we see an illustration of our tendency to think we have to give something to the Lord in order to receive grace from the Lord. Why is it so difficult for us to receive grace graciously? It’s because we’ve been so convinced that “there’s no free lunch.” But guess what? There is a free lunch, and breakfast and dinner too! “Come and dine,” says the Lord (John 21:12). “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat” (Isaiah 55:1).
Now if Esau, who is a type of the flesh, says, “That’s not the way it works,” how much more our Lord, who is the epitome of grace and goodness, would say, “You don’t have to do this, do that, or give up the other before you come into My presence.” “Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16).
If you’re in need today, know this: There’s nothing keeping you from going boldly to the throne and saying, “Father, I’m stuck,” or “Father, I don’t understand,” or “Father, I need help.”
This is the genius of true spirituality, the uniqueness of biblical Christianity. Every other philosophy and religion is based upon responsibility - the responsibility of its adherents to fast, to chant, to give, or to work. Christianity isn’t based on responsibility. It’s based on response - the response to unconditional love, unrestrained mercy, and undeserved grace.
For many years, I thought my salvation was based on my responsibility to pray, my responsibility to tithe, or my responsibility to be at church. But then I began to understand that God blesses, God gives, and God avails Himself not on the basis of what I do or don’t do, but on the basis of what He did in sending His Son to die on the Cross in order to pay the price for my sin. And when that pressure was taken off me, I wanted to study the Word. I wanted to be in church. I wanted to pray, not to earn blessing, but because I had already been so blessed.
Although he had reason to be angry, Esau did not hold a grudge against Jacob. Furthermore, he only accepted Jacob’s gift when pressed. Finally, he offered to accompany Jacob on his way as a means of protection for Jacob and his family. Thus, Esau would be considered refined and polished in our society. Yet the Bible says he was an uncouth man spiritually.
. . . lest there be any fornicator, or profane person, as Esau, who for one morsel of meat sold his birthright. For ye know how that afterward, when he would have inherited the blessing, he was rejected: for he found no place of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears. - Hebrews 12:16–17
Esau is a picture of the flesh - a doomed and damned man for whom there was found no place to repent.
“But my unsaved neighbor or co-worker or uncle is so nice, so generous, so kind, so giving” we say. They may be. They may be gems, real diamonds. In comparison, the Christian you’re sitting next to may be a cabbage. But there’s a big difference. A diamond is brilliant, polished, and highly esteemed, but dead. A cabbage is common, lowly, and ugly, but alive.
People get mixed up about this. They say, “I see Christians and they’re rude and mean.” The real issue, however, is this: we may be cabbage heads, but we’re alive.
But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved;) and hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in Heavenly places in Christ Jesus. - Ephesians 2:4–6
Diamond-like as we may have been, we were nonetheless dead, but God made us alive. And now, cabbage-like as we may be, we’re nonetheless growing. We’re not what we should be, but we’re not what we used to be, and we’re not what we’re going to be, for when we see Him, we shall be like Him (1 John 3:2). Oh, glorious day!
With his daughter raped and his sons being mass murderers, Jacob’s family is falling apart (Genesis 34). Therefore, in light of his situation, what God says to Jacob amazes me. He doesn’t say, “Sit down. You’re benched,” or “Back off. You’re done,” or “That’s it. You’re through.” He says, “Arise. Go up,” because our God is a God of unbelievable grace.
Bethel - previously called Luz until the night Jacob had an encounter with God - was the place where Jacob was saved. Now the Lord says, “Go back to the place you met Me.”
How I appreciate our Lord, because that’s what He says to you and me. We tend to think God is mad at us, is angry with us, and has had enough of us. But our brother Paul would come on the scene and say, “Where sin abounds, grace abounds more” (see Romans 5:20).
Jacob and his clan are neck-deep in sin, and yet God says, “Rise up. Let’s get going again. I want to ‘altar’ you once more.”
Evidently, Jacob’s family had added pagan gods and trinkets to the idols Rachel had stolen from her father. Here, Jacob says, “We’re going to Bethel. We’re going to the house of God. So give me all of those earrings and bracelets and stuff you picked up from the heathens.”
Notice God didn’t say to Jacob, “If you deal with the pagan gods in your family, then I might give you a second chance.” No, God simply said, “Rise and let us go to Bethel.”
Perhaps it was because Jacob was so amazed by this that he said, “It’s time to clean up, not so God will call us, but because He has called us.”
That’s what grace does. When I realize how kind and good and benevolent and merciful God is to me day after day after day, it causes me to want to put away my trinkets and toys that are not of Him. Too often, we think, I’ve got to get my life cleaned up and maybe then I can hear God’s voice; maybe then He’ll lead me again. No. God is ready to lead us today right where we are, and because of that we say, “Lord, You’re so good. I don’t want the things of the world anymore.”
In Scripture the tree, of course, speaks of the Cross. In other words, the picture is that Jacob left his sin at Calvary. When Jesus died on the Cross, not only was the penalty of sin paid for completely, but power over sin was provided for fully. So too, this very day you can say, “Lord, truly You are good in allowing me to go to Bethel once more. I’m tired of my sin, and I want my way to be free and unencumbered from the junk that entangles me.”
Practically, how does this happen? You reckon the old man dead. You say, “Lord, on the basis of Your Word, I no longer have to do that, go there, be involved with the other, not because of positive thinking, but because of what You did on Calvary’s tree.” Just as by faith you receive forgiveness, so too, by faith you gain victory.
Thus, I can truly say to that Double Quarter Pounder® with Cheese, “I no longer have to submit to the demand you are placing on me. I reckon the old man dead to that sin.” And I truly, honestly, absolutely, and unequivocally can turn away from that Quarter Pounder® and walk free, if I choose to! If you haven’t spent time in Romans 6 lately, I encourage you to marvel at it and say, “Thank You, Lord, that, because on the Cross You not only removed the penalty of sin but broke the power of sin, I don’t have to give in. I can walk away a free man.”
Gang, I am simple-minded enough to believe this applies to a heroin addict, to a gossiper, to a person who’s hooked on pornography, or to a person with a negative attitude. Whatever the sin might be, its power was shattered on the Cross.
“Give me that stuff,” Jacob said to his family.
“No, it’s too strong. No, it can’t be done. No, it’s too important,” they could have said. Instead, they responded to the command given to them by Jacob, just as you can respond to the Word given to you by the Lord.
Jacob has his problems, indeed. Jacob has all kinds of baggage, without question. But through it all, he’s growing because when he comes to Bethel the second time, he no longer calls it Bethel, “The house of God,” but El Bethel, or “The God of the house of God.” This shows monumental maturity, for Jacob understands that it’s not the house of God that is important, but the God who dwells in it. So too, it’s not church attendance that’s important, but the God whom we meet there. It’s not worship that’s important, but the God whom we worship. It’s not the Bible that’s important, but the God of the Bible. You see, the Word is not an end in itself. The goal of Bible study is not to try and gain more intellectual or theological understanding. It’s much more than that. The Word of God is simply a door I go through many times a day to meet the God of the Word.
“That’s obvious,” you say.
Not always. A lot of people initially delight in church or Bible study or worship, but will eventually lose interest in them because those things are not God. Be like Jacob. Keep your focus on God, and view everything else in light of Him.
To this man who experienced devastation in his family, God said, “Go to Bethel and dwell there. Go to Bethel and stay put.” Bethel literally means “house of God.” Jacob went to Bethel and found refuge and renewal, revival and refreshment, and then he left! Why? Why do people leave Bethel? Why do people leave the house of God? Let me give you the only answer we see in the text: After talking about Jacob’s revival in Bethel in verse 7, verse 8 says, “Now Deborah, Rebekah’s nurse, died.” In other words, although he had met God, heard the promises of God, and fellowshipped with God at Bethel, Jacob evidently couldn’t deal with the fact that his nanny was no longer there.
Both Abraham and Jacob would leave the house of God because of changes. Abraham left Bethel because of famine. His grandson left Bethel because of family. Abraham left because things were changing financially. Jacob left because he couldn’t handle it emotionally.
Why did Jacob’s nanny die? Why do things change? Because God is not static. Spiritual life will always be in motion. Therefore, it is the unwise man or the foolish woman who says, “If nanny’s not here anymore, I’m not coming either.” Precious fellow pilgrim, on our spiritual journey, we must build our altar, offer our praise, receive instruction, and remain in Bethel - in the place of fellowship with God.
In the book of Acts, Stephen refers to the text before us, saying that Joseph’s brothers were moved with envy against him (Acts 7:9). Of what were they envious? Joseph’s coat. Although your King James Bible describes this coat as being “of many colours,” a better rendering is that it was a coat of “many pieces,” or literally, a coat of “big sleeves.”
You see, in Joseph’s day most coats were actually vests because most men were workingmen and sleeves would only hinder their movement. However, those who held the position of boss or foreman would be given garments with sleeves. A coat with sleeves was not only a symbol of authority, but it was also a matter of practicality. In those days, before briefcases and hand-held computers, documents, writing instruments, and supplies would be kept in the sleeves secured by drawstrings at the wrists. Consequently, a man on the job site with sleeves was equivalent to a man carrying a briefcase and talking on a cell phone. In other words, the man with sleeves was clearly the boss.
And that’s the issue in the story before us. Joseph’s ten older brothers said, “Hey, what’s the big idea? Why did Dad give the coat with big sleeves to little Joey? Why should he be the boss, the big cheese, the big shot? It’s not right. It’s not fair. It’s not acceptable!” And so envious were they that they threw Joseph in a pit and sold him as a slave.
“Why can’t I be the manager at McDonald’s?” we say. “Why do I have to work the drive-thru year after year?”
“Why can’t I be the boss at the company? I’ve been there longer than he has.”
“How come I didn’t get the contract? My bid was lower; my work is better. I don’t understand.”
In other words, we are prone to say, “I should have the big sleeves.”
Whether it’s on the job, at school, or in church, there will always be opportunity for you and me to say, “How come I’m not noticed or acknowledged, elevated or rewarded?” Yet I believe the real question is: Are you sure you want to be?
We think we know what we want. But the fact is, the coat of big sleeves caused Joseph big headaches. Therefore, it is the wise person who says, “Lord, I think I want that. I think I deserve that. I think I should be that. But, Lord, I understand that inherent in that position there may be headaches, problems, and pressures of which I am completely unaware. So have Your way, and I know it will be best.”
If I were in Joseph’s sandals, would I give myself wholeheartedly, enthusiastically, and energetically to serving an Egyptian taskmaster, or would I say, “Lord, You’ve given me dreams and talents and abilities, but they’re all being wasted because I’m just a slave”? One of the many things that impresses me about Joseph is that he didn’t focus on what he lacked, but instead threw himself into the task at hand.
One Arizona dad, watching the tears on the faces of the boys who were too slow, too small, and too clumsy to get on the roster of one of the five north Phoenix Little League teams, asked if he could form a sixth team from the kids who were cut.
“Sure,” said the officials, “if you’ll coach them and pay for their uniforms.”
So the dad did, naming his team the Phoenix Diamondbacks.
Last Friday, the Phoenix Diamondbacks won their last game by a score of 19–0.
It was the League Championship game.
Some say, “I could have really been used if I had made the team,” or “I’ll really be used as soon as my situation changes.” Others, however, join Joseph in saying, “So what if I’m a slave? It’s a great opportunity to work hard for the glory of God and see what He’ll do.”
Here’s the question: How will I react to difficulty? Will I be like Jacob and say, “All things are working against me” - even though I know in my heart such is not the case? Or will I be like Joseph and say, “Man may have meant this for evil, but God meant it for good” (see Genesis 50:20)?
Unfortunately, all too often, I choose the sniveling of Jacob over the security of Joseph. Why? To elicit sympathy. What is it about our flesh that wants people to think we have it hard? While this may seem an insignificant quirk, in reality, it borders on blasphemy. In getting you to feel sorry for me, I get you to question God’s goodness, provision, and protection in my life. Thus, your pity for me is at God’s expense.
Who will I be? I can be self-indulgent and allow God to be cast in a bad light, even though I know in my heart the promise given to me, the price paid for me, and the peace available within me. I can deny all of this and say, “I want you to feel sorry for me. Listen to my tragedy.”
Or, I can say, “I will not dishonor this good, gracious, loving God, who has been so kind to me, so good to me. He’s my Creator and my Father. Therefore, I will not bring shame to His name in seeking sympathy from anyone.” That is called the fear of the Lord. It’s saying, “Father, I care more about Your reputation than I do about getting sympathy from the congregation. I don’t want them to think questioningly, negatively, or blasphemously of You.”
Where are the men and women who say, “We fear God. We will not snivel. God is good and we know deep within our hearts that He is working all things together for good”?
Here’s the question: In the name of compassion, are you one who constantly weeps with others? Perhaps what we need in the Christian community during this time of self-centered Christianity are men and women who say, “I fear God. So, dear brother, precious sister, even if you don’t understand, even if you think this is cold-hearted or lacking compassion, you know that this difficulty or tragedy will work for good. Stand on that knowledge. Cling to it. I will weep for you if you don’t get it. But I’m not going to weep with you as you question God. He’s too good for that.”
May God give us wisdom. May God give us peace. May God give us understanding. All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). I know it. And so do you.
After selling him into slavery, no wonder Joseph’s brothers were afraid when he called for them. “Oh, no!” they said. “He’s calling us to his table because he wants to send us away as prisoners.”
People still have this view of the greater than Joseph, Jesus Christ. People still say, “I’ve blown it so badly; I’ve erred so greatly; I know the Lord will yell at me and imprison me if I even come near His house.”
Not true! Even though these guys had sinned greatly, they will discover incredible grace and unbelievable mercy because Joseph is a picture of Jesus. And where sin abounds, His grace abounds much more (Romans 5:20). When you are aware of your failings, your weaknesses, your inconsistencies, your stubbornness, rebellion, and sin, there’s a tendency to say, “I can’t go to church because I know Jesus is mad at me. If I go, I’ll be bound with rules and regulations; I’ll be sent away to the prison of condemnation.”
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. - Isaiah 55:8–9
Through Isaiah, God says, “When someone offends you, is mean or nasty to you, I know that your ways and your thoughts center on one thing: revenge. But I don’t think like you do. Therefore, I don’t work like you do.”
We need to realize how much different the Lord is from how we are in our fallen condition, in our depraved nature. “God is good,” declares the psalmist (Psalm 73:1). He’s just flat out, plain old good. He looks for ways not to blast, but to bless.
Joseph’s heart was pounding, his stomach was churning, and his eyes were weeping, yet he didn’t reveal himself to his brothers. Why? Because there was still work to do. There was still testing to take place.
So too, Jesus passionately wants to be with you and me, His Bride. But He hasn’t yet come for us because there’s still work to do in us. It is true that Jesus is in Heaven preparing a place for us (John 14:2), but He’s also preparing us for the place. And when we’re ready, He’ll take us Home, either through the rapture or through death. When the time is right, when the work He wants to do has come to completion, He’ll take us Home one way or the other. Therefore, if we’re still here, it means there’s still work to do, not just through us, but in us.
Benjamin was given five times as much food as the others. Why did Joseph do this? I suggest it was in order to observe the reaction of his brothers. When Joseph was given the coat with the big sleeves, what was their response? Envy, jealousy, hostility, and anger. Therefore, Joseph wanted to see if his brothers would deal with Benjamin the same way they had dealt with him years earlier.
So too, the Lord measures the changes that have taken place in my life by how I react to my brothers, not just when they’re hurting, but when they, like Benjamin, succeed. It’s easy to weep with those who weep. It’s harder to rejoice with those who rejoice. If someone undergoes a tragedy, a catastrophe, or a problem, most of us feel a certain amount of sympathy rather easily. But it’s a little tougher for us to rejoice with the one who has everything going his way.
You’ll know a deep work has taken place in your life when you not only weep with those who weep, but rejoice with those who rejoice (Romans 12:15), without being jealous or envious, hostile or cynical.
“All men will know you are My disciples,” said Jesus, “by your love one for another” (see John 13:35). And “one another” includes the happy as well as the hurting.
“Don’t be upset with yourselves,” he said to his brothers. “Your selling me into this foreign land as a slave was all part of God’s plan.”
I love these words of Joseph because they express the heart of Jesus. “Father, forgive them,” He prayed from the Cross, “for they don’t know what they’re doing” (see Luke 23:34). Those who crucified Jesus were indeed forgiven. The price was paid. And Peter would go on to declare that it was all part of a divine design, a grand plan, that Jesus would die for the sins of every man (Acts 2:22–24). “I know you are aware of your flaws and failings,” Jesus would say to us, “but don’t be grieved. I’ve forgiven you.”
Christianity is unique in that it is not a matter of us cleaning ourselves up and getting our acts together. It is a matter of constantly rejoicing in the fact that the blood of Jesus cleanses us continually, that our sin is washed away constantly by what He did for us on the Cross of Calvary. Thus, Christianity is celebration of what He’s done, not condemnation for what we have or haven’t done.
“Don’t be angry with yourselves,” Joseph said to his brothers. “God had a plan in all of this.”
And God has a plan in everything you’re involved in as well. That is, to make you appreciate what He’s done for you, not so you can boast in your own righteousness, your own purity, or your own holiness, but to say, “Lord, Your forgiveness and kindness, Your goodness and mercy are awesome.”
The brothers didn’t seem to notice that Benjamin had three hundred more pieces of silver and four more suits than they did. So blown away were they by Joseph’s forgiveness that there was no room for envy or jealousy. I am so looking forward to that time when our greater than Joseph is revealed, when we are living with Jesus, for one of the Heavenly things about Heaven is that everyone will be one thousand percent thrilled for everyone else. Our competition-based society places a high premium on getting ahead. But this is not the way of the Kingdom . . .
When the water stirred, the first one into the pool of Siloam would, according to tradition, be the one who would be healed. So what did Jesus do? He didn’t go to the ones close to the pool. He went to the guy in the back, the one who had been there for thirty-eight years, and took him away from the competitive scene altogether (John 5).
The reason Joseph’s brothers didn’t even notice that Benjamin was three hundred pieces of silver richer and four suits ahead of them was because they had been forgiven, and earthly riches no longer mattered.
Here Joseph says, “I’m giving you everything you need to make the journey from where you are to where I am. Just see to it that you don’t fall out by the way.”
It’s easy to fall out by the way. It’s easy to say, “My body is hurting. My stocks are dropping. My head is spinning. And it’s time to kick back a bit.” But our greater than Joseph would say to us, “Don’t do it. Don’t fall back. Don’t give up.” In this regard, it’s sobering to realize that Jesus told us only one-fourth of the seeds scattered would go on to bear significant fruit . . .
In some people, the seed of the Word falls in soil and springs up quickly. But then comes the heat - tragedies, setbacks, and difficulties - that causes it to shrivel. In others, the cares of this world, the lust for riches, and the desire for other things are like weeds that choke out the Word. In others, the Word doesn’t take root at all. But some falls on soil where its roots grow deep and where it goes on to bring forth much fruit (Matthew 13).
Over the years, I’ve known those whose roots have gone deep into the soil of the Word, whose lives have borne much fruit, who despite setbacks and shortcomings, have not fallen out of the way. May we be those kinds of people.
I admire Jacob here because, although accepting this invitation to live among royalty and to be with his son Joseph again seems like the right thing to do, he stops and offers a sacrifice to God to ensure that what he is doing is truly acceptable in the Lord’s sight.
Appearances can be deceiving. I’m learning that, aren’t you? Jacob stops and says, “I want to make sure I’m going to Egypt with God’s blessing.” Why would he be so reticent? Perhaps it was because his grandfather had also gone down to Egypt in a time of famine, returned with a servant girl named Hagar, and set in motion a series of events for which the Middle East is paying the price to this day.
God says, “Jacob, I want you to go to Egypt. I’m not going to hold something from you that would be good for you. Your son will touch your eyes; you’ll be in fellowship with him once again.”
Romans 12 says this about God’s will: It’s good and acceptable and perfect. So often we think, “I hate the heat and can’t stand snakes. Therefore, I know God will send me as a missionary to Africa.” But that’s not the way the Father works! His will for you is good, acceptable, and perfect. Understand this, precious people: whatever God tells you to do will be good, really good for you.
In a 1998 newspaper article, I read the following . . .
Attending religious services lowers blood pressure more than tuning into religious TV or radio, a new study says. People who attended a religious service once a week and prayed or studied the Bible once a day were 40% less likely to have high blood pressure than those who don’t go to church every week or pray and study the Bible less. “If they relied on TV or radio for their religious service,” said David B. Larson, head of the National Institute for Healthcare Research, “it wasn’t as beneficial. It shows that church attendance is better for your health than even watching religious TV.” The link between religious activity and blood pressure is surprisingly strong. Previous studies show other health benefits from prayer. A 1988 study found that patients who were prayed for needed fewer antibiotics and had fewer complications in surgery. Last year, researchers found monthly church visits improved the mental health of the elderly. And researchers found earlier this year that adults who attend church once a week were more likely to have high levels of an immune system protein associated with age-related diseases. The new findings, part of a National Institute of Health initiative, came from a study of 2,391 people.
I like that! The will of the Father is indeed perfect.
The whole family is saved from the famished condition of where they were previously and has been called to live with Joseph in a land of luxury. I personally believe the Lord wants to save entire families. “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,” Paul said to the Philippian jailor, “and you will be saved - and your house” (see Acts 16:31). This doesn’t mean the whole family is automatically saved if the parent is a believer. But it does mean that a believing father or mother can expect the Lord to work in the rest of the family as he or she is obedient to the Word.
I’m simple enough to expect that my kids and grandchildren, should the Lord tarry, will travel with me, to be with the greater than Joseph - Jesus Christ - in the mansion He is preparing for us.
This note was left on my windshield yesterday . . .
I was so glad to see your car here, Brother Jon. I have the opportunity to share with you some wonderful news. While visiting my mother a few months ago, I accidentally left a set of tapes at her house. The tapes were of services I had missed from our current Genesis study. Now my mother thought I had left them there with hopes of converting her. But it truly was a mistake. I had really wanted to listen to them myself. But God is so faithful. For whatever reason, Mom started listening to the tapes, and she accepted Jesus as her Savior and is going to be baptized this Sunday in a church in Kennewick, Washington. My mother is saved. She’s saved, she’s saved! God used this chain of events just for her, and I couldn’t be happier.
That’s not coincidence. That’s providence! Grandpa, believe it. Mom, don’t doubt it. Parents, lay hold of it. Believe that the Lord will work in your family.
According to Hebrews 7:7, the greater blesses the lesser. Although Jacob couldn’t hold a candle to Pharaoh politically, financially, or militarily, he was unequivocally the greater spiritually because he was linked to the God of the universe.
The privilege of bestowing blessing - of proclaiming prosperity, happiness, and success - was reserved for patriarchs. Thus, Jacob was perfectly justified in pronouncing blessing, for he was a patriarch. But guess what? It is equally proper for us to pronounce blessing, for it was also a privilege for priests and kings, and according to 1 Peter 2:9, we are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood.
Wherever we go, we hear people mock, dishonor, and trivialize God. But you and I get to be those who say, “The Lord bless you.” We get to be those who speak the Lord’s name upon someone’s life, into someone’s day.
“But I’m old,” you say.
So was Jacob.
“But I’m poor,” you say.
So was he.
“But I’m nothing,” you say.
In the eyes of men, neither was Jacob.
“But I’m not godly,” you say.
Neither was Jacob.
Yet he walked into the palace of Pharaoh and blessed him. And that’s what you can do. It just takes a moment or two, but you can bless people by speaking God’s name in their ear, by adding God’s presence to their day.
As Joseph enters with his sons Ephraim and Manasseh in tow, they who had blessed Jacob in coming are about to be blessed themselves.
Haven’t you discovered that when you share with someone in need, you might set out, saying, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to help, say the right thing, or do enough,” only to find that when you get there, you are the one who is blessed?
Jesus wants us to minister to each other because He taught that whatever measure a man gives out, it will be given back to him (see Matthew 7:2). It’s in giving that we get. It’s in praying for the sick that we become healthier. It’s in cheering the discouraged that our own emotions begin to soar. It’s in explaining truth to others that we begin to see things more clearly.
“The Spirit of God has revealed to me that the younger son will be the greater,” insisted Jacob. “Manasseh will be blessed, too, but there’s a greater plan for Ephraim.”
And that’s exactly what happened. Ephraim became the greater tribe by far. The ten northern tribes of Israel are called Israel, but they’re also referred to as Ephraim because Ephraim was predominant within the ten northern tribes.
Culturally and traditionally, the elder son, the firstborn, was to receive all of the benefits and assume the greater position. Quite often, however, the Lord seems to tweak this . . .
Cain was the firstborn, but it was Abel who was blessed.
Ishmael was the firstborn, but it was Isaac who was blessed.
Esau was the firstborn, but it was Jacob who was blessed.
Reuben was the firstborn, but it was Joseph who was blessed.
Aaron was the firstborn, but it was Moses who was blessed.
Throughout the Word, the Lord often makes the lesser the greater, and uses the younger to rule the older. Why? I think the basic message is simply this: What is coming is always better than what has been. We tend to wax eloquent about the good old days. The Lord, however, says, “The best is yet to come. I’m going to take you from glory to greater glory” (see 2 Corinthians 3:18).
This gives me real hope because I truly believe for our churches, for our families, and for us personally the best is yet to come. It just seems to be the way of the Lord if we choose to believe on Him and walk with Him.
The Bible defines fruit in five specific areas . . .
In Romans 1:13, Paul tells us that the winning of souls is fruit unto God. Did Joseph win souls? Indeed! He saved his whole family from famine and drought. So too, when you share with your family, neighbors, or friends the good news of the Gospel, saving them from the drought in their own souls and from the fires of hell, you bear fruit that pleases God.
Romans 6:22 identifies holiness as fruit. Perhaps best epitomized by his flight from the advances of Potiphar’s wife, Joseph lived a holy life. In fact, he is one of only two major Old Testament characters of whom there is no recorded sin.
Philippians 4:17 identifies tithes and offerings as fruit. Joseph gave more than money in Egypt. He gave his life.
Colossians 1:10 says good works are a fruit unto God. Did Joseph do good works? Yes. He saved an entire nation from starvation by storing up goods to distribute when there was need.
Hebrews 13:15 names praise as fruit. When Joseph came to Pharaoh with the interpretation of Pharaoh’s dream, he directed all praise to God (Genesis 41:16).
These five areas, so evident in Joseph’s life, are summed up in a sixth New Testament reference to fruit:
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law. - Galatians 5:22–23
The fruit of the Spirit is love as defined by joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and self-control. The fruit of the Spirit is love. That’s why we give of our time and money. That’s why we lift our hands in praise. That’s why we share with others.
With all of these qualities flowing through his life, no wonder Jacob said to Joseph, “You are a fruitful bough.”
“Good for Joseph,” you might be saying. “But why should I be fruitful?”
Because if we don’t satisfy Jesus, not only will we not satisfy anyone else, but we won’t satisfy even ourselves. Listen, gang, if you are not living to please God, then your life will dry up from the roots, from below the surface, from deep within, and you will experience emptiness, frustration, depression, and a lack of satisfaction. Live to please God, on the other hand, and your life will be marked by love.
Like Joseph whose roots went into the well, so too, if the Word abides in you, you’ll bring forth much fruit.
If I went out to my backyard, cut off a limb from the apple tree and said, “I have great news, kids: You no longer need to go outside to pick apples. Here’s a branch we’re going to keep right in the kitchen,” they would wonder about me!
“You can’t cut off a branch and have it bear fruit,” they’d say. “It has to be connected to the tree.”
So too, it’s as if Jesus says, “The sap of the Scriptures must flow from Me to you in order for there to be fruit in your life.”
As I have observed the apple tree in my backyard bring forth apples, never once have I seen the branches connected to the trunk struggling to bear fruit. The branches just hang there. They abide, and the fruit is produced naturally. So too, you might decide to be loving, to do good works, or to praise the Lord in your own energy. And you might be able to fake it for an hour or two, for a day or three, but ultimately you’ll come up empty. The only way to produce genuine fruit morning by morning and day by day is to hang in there, abide in Christ, and allow the Spirit to flow to you and through you. Fruit cannot be faked for very long. You’ve got to have the Word in your life.
Throughout his life, there was no shortage of archers who took potshots at Joseph . . .
He was shot at by his brothers because they were envious.
He was shot at by Potiphar’s wife because he was righteous.
He was shot at by the butler who was thankless.
Joseph’s brothers fired the arrows of envy; Potiphar’s wife, the arrow of fury; and the butler, the arrow of apathy. Wherever Joseph went, there would be those who would view him as a target and let their arrows fly.
But what did Joseph do when he was shot at?
When he came into power, he could have nailed them all. He could have pinned his brothers to the wall, put Mrs. Potiphar in her place, and done in the butler. He had the power, the opportunity, and the legal right, but he didn’t fire back. He didn’t defend himself. His bow abode in strength. His bow remained silent.
Why didn’t Joseph fire back?
According to our text, Joseph’s God kept him from grabbing his bow and letting the arrows fly. Joseph’s God kept Joseph’s hand in His.
I can’t control the tendency to want to defend myself, to retaliate, or to get revenge. When I hear or see things I feel are unfair or untrue, everything within me says, “Fire back. Clear the record. Straighten it out.”
The only way to refrain from this tendency is to say, “Father, I want to stand up for my reputation, my right, my point of view. Restrain me, Lord.”
Why shouldn’t you clear the air and fire back for what you think is right?
Because those who find fault with you, those who come against you, those who shoot at you from a distance are ultimately instruments of God for your growth and for your good. You see, it was his brothers, Potiphar’s wife, and the butler who were used by the Lord to create in Joseph character, strength, and a depth he would not have had if he hadn’t been shot at, or if he had fired back.
The secret of strength is to refrain from using the power you have, to keep from trying to outmaneuver your enemy intellectually or retaliating physically, and to let the Lord fight for you and do a work within you.
Jacob let go of his spirit, and was gathered unto his people. We will all be gathered unto our people. The only question is: Who are your people? Who are the people with whom you’re most comfortable? They’re the ones with whom you’ll spend eternity.
Sometimes people say, “Hell won’t be so bad. At least all my friends will be there.” But nothing could be further from the truth. No one will be playing poker with his buddies and listening to country music in hell. No, hell is completely dark and totally hot. In hell, everyone is isolated.
Why would a loving God send anyone to a place like that?
He doesn’t.
God is Light. Therefore, he who doesn’t want God in his life gets darkness. God is Love. Therefore, he who doesn’t want God in his life gets hate. God is a Father. Therefore, he who doesn’t want God in his life will be an orphan - alone for all eternity. God is the wellspring of joy and source of happiness. Therefore, he who doesn’t want God in his life will experience nothing but drought and depression. The person in hell isn’t there because God wants to torture him. He’s there because he doesn’t want God in his life.
“Please reconsider,” God says. “If you choose to turn your back on Me, I will give you that option. But the only way I’ll let you go is over My dead body, for you’ll have to walk over the body of My Son.”
Joseph cries. The word translated “wept” isn’t the word for sobbing. It’s the word for quiet weeping. Tears just rolled down his cheeks. His brothers didn’t get it. They thought he was holding a grudge against them. They thought he was simply waiting for the right time to pounce on them. They thought he was angry with them, bitter toward them.
So too, we often think of our Lord Jesus as keeping a record of our previous failures; that He must be getting tired of us, exhausted by us. But we are told that, like Joseph, Jesus wept . . .
“If you had only been here, our brother would not have died,” cried Martha and Mary. “We told You he was sick. We sent You word, but You didn’t come. And now he’s dead.” And Jesus wept. He knew what He would do. He knew He would bring Lazarus back to life. So it wasn’t for Lazarus He wept. It was for the unbelief of Martha and Mary (John 11).
Jesus wept a second time when He said, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, I would gather you under My wing and nestle You close to My heart, but you wouldn’t let Me” (see Matthew 23:37).
If you think you’ve botched it so many times that the Lord must be just about ready to throw in the towel with you, you don’t understand the heart of our Lord. It was for the man most in need, upon the man who couldn’t handle things all that well, toward the man with the paralyzed hand that Jesus had compassion (Mark 3:1–5). So too, if you are struggling and are barely able to hold things together, you are the very one for whom Jesus has the most compassion. The person who’s not reaching out, not doing well, unable to handle life is the one for whom Jesus has special affection and on whom He has a laser-like focus.
Each of us is struggling with one thing or another. Thus, Jesus would say to all of us, “No matter how withered it might be, stretch out your hand. Grab hold of Me. Receive from Me that which I long to give you.”
No matter what pit you’ve dug, or what brother you’ve sold, our greater than Joseph has washed away your sin with His own blood.
Thus ends the book of Genesis. The book that began with creation ends with a coffin. The book that began in glory ends in a grave. The book that began with the living God ends with a dead man. The book that began with the brightness of Heaven ends with bones in Egypt.
Why?
It’s the Holy Spirit’s commentary on the condition of man, the repercussions of sin, and the need for a Savior.
Joseph is the most Christlike man in the Bible, and yet we see him in a coffin. Although Satan said otherwise, God had said, “In the day you eat of the forbidden fruit, thou shalt surely die” (see Genesis 2:17). Joseph was a very good man, but the fact is that all have sinned and come short of the glory of God, and that the wages of sin is death (Romans 3:23; 6:23).
Is there any way out? Is there any hope? Is there any plan?
Yes! We’ll see God’s redemptive plan unfold in Exodus. We’ll not stay in a coffin in Egypt indefinitely, gang. We’re going to Heaven. We’re on our way home!
The book of Exodus is the book of redemption, wherein we see that God’s heart is for us and that He has a plan to set us free. Exodus is a picture book of God’s redemptive character, of His desire to set at liberty those who were enslaved by sin and stuck in a coffin in Egypt.
Between Genesis 50 and Exodus 1 is a time gap of approximately four hundred years, a time gap during which something quite amazing happened. You see, the seventy souls who originally entered the land of Egypt in Genesis 50 numbered approximately three million in Exodus 1. Worried that they would one day be outnumbered, the Egyptians tried to slow down the population growth of God’s people. But, as always, God had a plan even in this.
God allows His people to be afflicted because He knows the same thing my high school football coach knew. Coach Dominguez told us that the only way to increase our strength was to break down our muscles. And he was right. The foundational premise of weight training is that hard exercise allows a muscle to break down, eventually repairing itself stronger than it was before.
The same thing holds true spiritually. Because faith is a muscle that needs to be worked, if I am to grow in depth, in strength, or in maturity, there’s no other way than to go through testing, trial, and affliction. Therefore, when I feel like I’m breaking down, falling apart, or caving in, if I listen, I’ll hear the voice of the ultimate coach, Jesus, saying, “Trust Me. I know what I’m doing. These hard times are necessary to build your strength, to give you victory.”
Midwives were midwives because they were barren. But God blessed these midwives and gave them children of their own.
“Wait a minute,” you protest. “Hadn’t these women lied?”
Yes, but God blessed them anyway. It isn’t that God approves of lying. Rather than focusing on the fault of these women, however, He sees that they feared Him, that they disobeyed Pharaoh and risked their own lives to do what was right in His sight.
God the Father has a way, not only with Egyptian midwives, but with you and me, of finding what is good and celebrating that. Aren’t you glad that God doesn’t focus on our failings and shortcomings, but rather has a way of looking at us and approving the things which are excellent, just as Paul tells us we all should do (Philippians 1:10)? This doesn’t mean God doesn’t convict us of sin and call us to repent and change direction. But it does mean that our God is exceedingly kind. We might judge these women for lying. God, however, declares, “They did something good in My sight and I’m going to honor them.”
Jochebed, Moses’ mother, was a woman of vision, for she saw that her son was “a goodly child.” Not only was she a woman of vision, but she was a woman of the Word, for what else would explain her decision to place her son in the very river in which all other male babies his age were being drowned? My tendency would be to stay as far from the river as possible. But not Jochebed. Why? I suggest it was because she knew the story of another “goodly” man who was saved in a time of destruction and judgment. I suggest it was because she knew the story of Noah. You see, the Hebrew word translated “ark” in verse 3 is used only one other place in all of Scripture: in reference to Noah. Thus, I believe it was not mere coincidence that prodded Jochebed to fashion an ark and to line it with pitch, just as Noah had done (Genesis 6:14).
How I encourage you who are parents to follow the pattern of Jochebed. Ask God to give you a vision for your child. Even if others think he is ordinary or not all that special, in God’s sight that child of yours has a wonderful, huge, important, and unique calling. Ask God to show a portion of it to you. Second, immerse yourself in the Word. Believe in it, act on it in faith, and don’t be surprised if, in so doing, like Jochebed, you raise a hero of the faith.
In Acts 7, we read that not only was Moses “mighty in works,” which means he was a military hero, but that he was “full of the wisdom of Egypt.” In other words, he was schooled in philosophy and astronomy, in science and history, in language and botany. And yet here he is in a desert with one man and his seven daughters. From Genesis 46:34 we know that in the eyes of the Egyptian, shepherds were an abomination. Therefore, the man who had been most respected was now utterly rejected.
And yet he was content.
According to Paul, contentment is precisely what you and I are to study (Philippians 4:11). “Learn to be content,” he tells us, understanding that if we’re not content where we are today, we’ll not be content wherever we plan on going tomorrow.
If asked whether we’re content right here, right now, most of us would answer, “Not yet, but I’m going to be tomorrow, next month, real soon, around the corner, coming up. Any day now, things will be perfect.” Moses, however, wouldn’t have answered this way, for he had learned the hugely important lesson of contentment.
“I know I’m supposed to learn to be content,” people say. “But how?”
I believe verse 22 tells us how: Be a Gershom. You see, Gershom means “stranger.” Therefore, in naming his son Gershom, Moses in essence said, “I’m just passing through. This world is not my home.”
Contentment is not hard to learn if you realize what you really long for is Heaven. Once I understand that I’m just a stranger here, that I won’t ever fit in, that I’m just passing through, I enjoy life because I’m not expecting the job, the car, the house, the relationship, or the bank account to do what those things can never do. If I am truly Gershom, I’ll take a whole lot more things a whole lot less seriously, and as a result, my life will be characterized by joy and contentment.
It seems God often plants His people in the desert before He uses them.
Elijah was a man of the desert.
John the Baptist grew up in the desert regions of the Dead Sea.
Paul spent the three years following his conversion in the deserts of Arabia.
John the revelator was banished to the desert isle of Patmos.
Like you, I have gone through desert times, dry seasons when I have wondered, “Lord, where’s Your presence and where’s Your power?” But, as the years have gone by, I have come to understand that those desert times are imperative if I am to be one who is not dependent upon my feelings or my emotions. Desert seasons are essential for me to come to a place where I can say, “Lord, You promised You would be with me. You promised You would never leave me no matter how dry the times might be or how solitary the setting might seem. The fact of the matter is, Your Word has been given and You’re teaching me to stand upon it rather than sink in my own emotions.”
Over the years, I have seen lots of talented people in all sorts of ministries fall away because their emotions, rather than the Word, dictated their walk. Emotions go up and down. Emotions are fickle. Emotions are affected by how our job is going, how our family is doing, or how much pizza we had the previous evening. But because God wants us to be stable and solid, to walk by faith and not by feelings, He will put us into a desert place where we, like Moses, must learn to be content and say, “Lord, You’ve given me the promise of Your Word. And that is all I need.”
To speak to Moses, I would have thought the Lord would use a mighty oak tree, strong and sturdy; or a majestic pine tree, tall and stately; or a fragrant cedar, smelling sweetly. But the Lord didn’t use any of those. He used a bush. The Hebrew word translated “bush” is cenah, and literally refers to a thorny bush. According to botanists, thorns are basically aborted branches. That is, they should have been branches, but just didn’t get that far. So here’s this bush. It’s common; it’s prickly; and even its attempts at growing branches were too weak to amount to anything. In other words, it’s just like me.
The Lord loves to use bushes like you and me . . .
For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are: that no flesh should glory in his presence. - 1 Corinthians 1:26–29
God chooses those who are bushes, those who are bush-league, those who feel bushed, because when He uses a bush all of the glory goes to Him.
So great a violinist was Niccolò Paganini that a legend arose wherein he walked onto the stage of a Viennese concert hall one evening, violin in hand, and broke a string. He followed this by breaking a second string, then a third. With only one string remaining, Paganini nestled the violin under his chin and, for the next eighteen minutes, played magnificently. As the crowd rose to its feet in ovation, Paganini said, “One string and Paganini.” And, realizing they had heard a true master, the crowd erupted in applause.
I might feel like I only have one string. I might feel strung-out, strung-along, or third-string. But the reality is, the Lord loves to use that which is weak, unimportant, and unimpressive because then He, the Master Musician, gets the ovation, the glory, and the adoration.
Why does God reserve all glory for Himself? Because He knows that if He shares His glory with us, if people look up to you, lean on me, or become impressed with us, every one of us will ultimately disappoint them. Therefore, He says, “I alone will receive glory because I alone will never disappoint anyone who looks to Me, who trusts in Me, who leans on Me.” Only God is solid and stable enough to see us through day after year after decade on through eternity. So He uses bushes, one-stringed violins, common people like you and me in order that He alone might receive the praise.
Would Moses have turned aside to study this situation - this interesting phenomenon of a bush burning but not being consumed - if he had been in the city, if he had been engaged in lots of activity, if he had been in the palace of Pharaoh as he was forty years previously? I don’t think so.
And now I see that the Lord places me in desert regions because it’s only then that I have eyes to see and ears to hear that which He desires to tell me. When things are humming, active, and hectic, I believe I miss many of the key indicators God sends my way. So if you’re in a desert place, a desert job, a desert marriage, rejoice, for it will give you opportunity to see and sense the Lord in ways that, if you were more active, more engaged, or even more fulfilled, you would miss.
Here’s Moses on the backside of the desert day after week after month after year. Decades go by. And then something happens. Among the many bushes in the wilderness, one burns brightly without being consumed, causing Moses to eventually realize that the Lord was with him.
Where is God today?
He’s in the bush sitting next to you.
“That prickly person?” you ask.
Yes. God is here in the person sitting next to you, in the person you’re married to, in the person you work with.
“Wait a minute,” you protest. “The Lord certainly can’t speak through my husband, my parents, or my boss. They’re not on fire.”
Oh, but there’s what you need to see. The bush was not on fire. The fire was in the bush. You might think people around you aren’t on fire. That may be true. But if they’re believers, the fire is in them . . .
Although Jesus did mighty works in Capernaum, there were those who scoffed and said, “We know Him. He’s the son of the carpenter. Aren’t His brothers and sisters among us?” (Matthew 13). They thought He was the son of a carpenter, failing to realize He is the Son of the Creator.
In Mark 6, the disciples are toiling; the waves are mounting; the wind is howling. And in the middle of the night, they see someone walking toward them. A legend of their day said that right before fishermen drowned, they saw a spirit coming toward them. No wonder their fear was rising. “It’s a ghost!” the disciples cried, until Jesus said, “Be of good cheer. It is I.”
As two disciples walked toward Emmaus, they were joined by One who asked them why they were so sad. “Are you a stranger here?” they asked incredulously, not recognizing it was Jesus Himself who walked beside them (Luke 24).
Finding the tomb empty that Easter morning, Mary Magdalene wept. Seeing a man she supposed to be the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have moved the body, tell me where you have taken Him.” But when the “gardener” answered and spoke her name, she recognized Him for who He was (John 20).
Jesus dwells with us in the carpenters’ sons, in those we think we know. He speaks to us through people who may frighten us as they dare to rattle the bars of our beliefs. He reaches out to us through strangers walking alongside us. He speaks to us through gardeners, through plumbers, through those who work beside and for us. Oh, they might not be on fire. But the fire is in them; and the Lord can use them as easily, as powerfully, and as surprisingly as He can use a common, everyday bush like you.
At the ripe old age of eighty, Moses was given a massive, monumental task. He was called by God to lead the children of Israel out of the bondage of Egypt into the Land of Promise. For the previous forty years, he had been on the backside of the desert, seemingly forsaken and forgotten. No wonder he said, “Lord, who am I? I’m eighty years old. I’ve been out of the loop for forty years. I’ve been out here in the desert for four decades. Lord, who am I?”
“Certainly I will be with thee,” God answered. In other words, the question isn’t who you are, but “Who is with you?”And the answer is “I AM.”
Like Moses, we might say, “Who are we?”
And, as He said to Moses, the Lord would say to us, “The issue isn’t who you are, but ‘Who is with you?’”
Fifteen hundred years later, Jesus said to His disciples, “Go into the world and preach the Gospel. Make disciples and baptize them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” (see Matthew 28:19). Jesus commissioned His disciples to see people set free.
“Who are we to do this massive, monumental task?” they must have wondered.
But Jesus went on to say, “And lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world” (Matthew 28:20). “It’s not who you are, but who’s with you. That’s the key.”
After hearing that the Lord is with him, Moses asks, “What shall I say Your name is?” Moses asks this question not for the sake of identification. He already knows God is talking to him. God had already identified Himself in verse 6. So it wasn’t a matter of identification. Nor was it a matter of conversation. Moses wasn’t trying to make small talk, not with the lives of three million people at stake.
Moses’ question was neither for identification nor for idle conversation. It was for the purpose of communication.
“I know You are the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I know You are the Supreme Entity. Those are Your titles. But what’s Your name?” Moses asked God. It’s as if he’s saying, “Lord, if I’m going to lead three million people across the wilderness, I need to be able to reach You.”
“That I may know him,” Paul declared, “and the power of his resurrection” (Philippians 3:10). You may not have to lead three million people across the wilderness today, but even to navigate whatever is on your schedule, there is not a more joyful or needful goal than that of knowing God.
In Bible days, a person’s name was an indication of his nature. That’s why we’re told to pray in Jesus’ name. “If you ask anything in My name,” He said, “I will do it” (see John 14:14).
“In Jesus’ name” is not merely a phrase to tack on to the end of your prayers, like “over and out.” No, praying in Jesus’ name means praying according to His nature, praying in harmony with His heart, praying as He would pray if He were in our situation. So in asking God’s name, Moses in essence is saying, “What’s Your nature?” And God, for the first time, here in Exodus 3, identifies His name as literally, I AM THAT I AM.
“I AM . . . what?” Moses may have wondered.
“I AM whatever you have need of,” God must have intimated. “Moses, you’re on a journey. The task before you is huge and you want to know who I am. I AM whatever you need. Not I USED TO BE, not WILL BE, but I AM presently. Immutable. Unchangeable. The same yesterday, today, and forever. Rock solid. I AM. That’s My name; I AM whatever you need.”
Fifteen hundred years later, Jesus would shed further light on God’s name by declaring,
I AM the Bread.
I AM the Way.
I AM the Truth.
I AM the Life.
I AM the Light of the World.
I AM the Good Shepherd.
I AM the Door.
I AM the Vine.
Jesus took the name of God and filled in the blank.
“Show us the Father,” said Philip.
“He that has seen Me has seen the Father,” Jesus answered (see John 14:9). No wonder two hundred armed soldiers seeking to arrest Jesus fell down backwards upon hearing His irrefutable declaration of deity, upon hearing Him say, “I am He,” or literally, “I AM.”
For many years, I didn’t fully understand this, and thought Jesus was not I AM but I GIVE, as in “I give bread, deliverance, strength, and healing.” Now I understand that He’s infinitely more than that. We think we need bread, healing, deliverance, and companionship. In actuality, however, we’re craving Jesus. It’s not something He gives us, but who He will be for us step by step, day by day.
Often people say, “I can’t be used. If I try to serve in some way, the people won’t respond. If I try to be used at work or in Sunday school, in my neighborhood or in my family, no one will listen. If I try to pray with my wife, she won’t receive from me; that’s for other guys, not me.” But before you fall prey to that kind of thinking, take a look at what is in your hand.
“What’s in your hand?” God asked Moses.
“A shepherd’s rod,” Moses answered.
“That’s what I’ll use,” said God.
“What’s in your hand, Paul?”
“A pen. I’m a scholar.”
“I’ll use that,” said God. “You will write a great portion of My Word.”
“What’s in your hand, Peter?”
“A net. I’m a fisherman.”
“I’ll use that,” said God. “You will be a fisher of men and haul people into the Kingdom.”
If you wonder how you can serve God, how you can be used by Him, take a look at what’s in your hand. When you were born, God gave you gifts that are simply waiting to be activated when you become born again. You’re already doing that which He will energize and empower for ministry. What’s in your hand? A computer? A hammer? A basketball? That’s what He will use for His glory.
You may be an accountant, a carpenter, or a surgeon. God says, “Throw down your occupation, your profession and see what it is in and of itself: it’s a snake. If you’re living for it, if you’re all caught up in it, if you’re depending on it, you will be bitten by it.” The same holds true - maybe especially true - with regard to ministry. Moses had been a faithful shepherd for forty years. Here, God makes it clear that nothing could compare to an empty hand lifted and open to Him. It’s as if, at the outset of the monumental ministry to which He was calling Moses, God said, “I must be your passion, not your service for Me, not your talents or abilities, not your spiritual gifts. Nothing must take the place of an open hand, an open heart to embrace Me personally.”
Maybe you’ve been forced to throw down some skill, some calling, some position you were good at or gifted for. Don’t despise this, for now you can say, “Lord, now that I don’t have that in my hand anymore, I’m rediscovering it’s not doing something for You that I crave, but it is simply You. I’m not looking for an opportunity to exercise my gift or to be used in ministry. I’m just looking for more intimacy with You. No wonder it had to be pried out of my hand. I get it. It’s a snake.” And once you understand this, you’re in a position to pick it up once again.
To avoid getting bit, the wisest thing to do is to grab a snake by the back of the head. God, however, tells Moses to grab it by the tail as if to say, “Now that you see that ministry is not the priority, pick it up again, only this time by the tail. It’s not going to have priority in your life. It’s not going to be the thing that drives you.” There is no stopping the man or woman who puts ministry in its rightful position - as the tail - thus allowing God to take His rightful position as Head.
God had given Moses the ability to herd sheep. In addition to this ability, here we see God gave him a testimony. Leprosy is a picture of sin in Scripture. Therefore, the illustration of a leprous hand made whole is one of being born again. What God has done in each of our lives is a powerful tool in ministry. Share your story. Share your testimony. It’s powerful and cannot be denied.
In addition to ability and a testimony, the third tool God gave Moses was authority. He was to pour water from the Nile River - the river that sustained the entire Egyptian Empire - on the ground, where it would become blood. And in so doing, the people would see that no matter how refreshing their surroundings might be, apart from God, even their best efforts at life were doomed to die.
With regard to ministry, never underestimate the power of telling the truth directly, of saying, “The path you’re on will lead to death. But here’s what God has done: He died on the Cross that you might live. The water you’re drinking will lead to death. But if you drink of Jesus, the Water of Life, you will never thirst again.”
Regarding ministry, a lot of people have gifts, callings, and good intentions. But they never get to the root issue. They never directly say to a family member, neighbor, relative, or friend, “What you’re drinking will kill you. You need to be born again.” When is the last time you truly shared the message of the Cross with a non-believer? As good as simply being nice to people, helping them out, making them feel loved, welcomed, or affirmed might be, these things can’t hold a candle to the power of the Cross. There is nothing more powerful than a clear, simple presentation of the Cross.
“Let My son go,” God said to Pharaoh, “or your son will die” (see Exodus 4:23). Two sons are being talked about, but there are three sons in the story, for Moses had a son as well. And Moses couldn’t pronounce judgment on Pharaoh’s house while his own house was in error (1 Peter 4:17). You see, in Genesis 17:11, God instituted circumcision as an outward sign of an inward belief, its counterpart seen in the New Testament ordinance of baptism (Colossians 2:11–12). Circumcision was given to the Jewish nation as a mark of differentiation between them and every other culture round about them. Yet, Moses never circumcised his son. As a descendant of Abraham, Moses certainly knew the significance of this act. Why, then, wouldn’t he have circumcised Gershom?
It could be that he was preoccupied with his occupation. It could be that he was so into watching sheep that he forgot about the spiritual needs of his son. And before we wonder how watching sheep in the desert could be that consuming, we would do well to ask ourselves why we expend so much time and energy simply to make another sale, to get another client, to climb another step, to make another dollar. When we get to Heaven, on the other side of eternity, we will surely say, “What was I thinking? Why did I take my career so seriously? Why wasn’t I there for my son, helping him to grow in his walk with the Lord?”
Or perhaps the reason Moses didn’t circumcise his son was a little more subtle. Perhaps it was because he was caught up in ministry. Listen carefully, Mom and Dad: there is no ministry in which you will ever be engaged that is more important, more fulfilling, more satisfying, gratifying, or thrilling than discipling your own children. God tapping you on the shoulder and saying three million people will listen to you would be incomparable to seeing your son or daughter discipled and trained. And lest you think your family isn’t a big enough ministry for a man of your skills and abilities, consider this: Jesus, the perfect Man, the ultimate minister, chose only twelve disciples into whom to pour His life. Therefore, one, two, or three kids is more than enough for even the best of us. From day one you get to pray for them, love them, and model God to them. It’s an incredible opportunity.
Revelation is directly linked to obedience. Pharaoh didn’t know the Lord solely because he had no intention to obey Him.
Do you desire to be obedient to the Lord? If so, He will give revelation to you and will provide direction for you. But our God is so good that He will not give further revelation to us or further direction to us if we have not been obedient to that which He has already told us to do. Often, people say, “I just don’t know what the Lord’s plan or will for me is.” And frequently, it’s an issue of whether or not they’ve obeyed the last thing He told them to do.
The desk in my study is piled high with papers. My in box is overflowing. The Lord, however, is so good to us that He doesn’t keep stacking up our spiritual in boxes. He gives us one thing to do, one assignment, one memo, one piece of information, one directive. And then He waits until we do it before giving us another. “My burden is easy,” He declared. “My load is light” (see Matthew 11:30). He gives us one thing to do. He doesn’t overwhelm or overwork us.
Pharaoh referred to Moses’ request to worship as “vain words,” or a waste of time. And Pharaoh’s mentality prevails to this day. “You don’t have time for Communion. You don’t have time for worship. You don’t have time for devotions. There’s work to do,” our society barks.
Nowhere is this mindset seen more clearly than in Judas who, observing Mary anoint Jesus with ointment costing a year’s salary, said, “That’s a waste. That money could have been spent on the poor. That money could have been used to do some good work” (see John 12:3–6). Yet Jesus would later refer to Judas himself as “the son of perdition,” or literally, “the son of waste,” because the biggest waste is that of wasting the opportunity to worship.
The moles in my backyard drive me crazy. To rid my yard of them, I’ve stuck a hose down their holes and flooded them for an hour at a time. I’ve tossed in little smoke bombs. I’ve stood vigilantly over their holes with shovel in hand - all to no avail. Then I read that in one night, a single mole will often dig three hundred feet of tunnel. And, as my experience proves, the moles’ efforts are not in vain, for even though they’re digging under the surface where no one can see them, when the smoke bombs are thrown in or the water is turned on, they can escape to any number of tunnels and bomb shelters.
That’s exactly what the devotional life does for you and me. “What a waste of time it is staying up late or getting up early to study the Word. What a waste of time it is to go to church on a Thursday night,” some might mutter. But they fail to understand that those things are tunnels and bomb shelters that will protect you from the inevitable attacks of the Enemy.
“Why couldn’t we cast this demon out?” the disciples asked Jesus.
“This kind does not come out but by prayer and fasting,” Jesus answered (see Matthew 17:21). In other words, we are to live a life of prayer and fasting, for if we wait to lay the spiritual groundwork until the challenge is before us, it will be too late. We won’t be able to do what we could have done, or to be who we might have been because there were no tunnels dug under the surface early in the morning and late at night.
Although we sympathize with the children of Israel, we must make note of their mistake in crying to Pharaoh instead of calling out to God. Are you having a hard time at work? Is your boss cracking the whip? Is your supervisor loading you down? Are your co-workers demanding more of you than you think reasonable? Don’t cry to your boss. Cry to the Lord first. Get direction from Him, for as the old hymn rightly declares, “O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear, all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.”
This is so simple and we know it to be true. But I must be reminded of it over and over again. Maybe you do too. It’s so easy to cry to Pharaoh - to cry to a husband or wife, brother or sister, pastor or elder. It’s easy to seek out people, when in reality God would say, “Woe to the rebellious people who take counsel but not of Me” (see Isaiah 30:1). Is the whip cracking? Is your back aching? Cry to the Lord.
“I will give you salvation, liberation, redemption, adoption, revelation, direction, and provision.” In Exodus 6:6–8, we see seven “I wills,” seven statements of promise made by God. The one thing we don’t see is a single, “If you . . .” because such is the nature of the Gospel. The Gospel is the expression of God’s fervent love toward us. It’s all about what He has done and nothing about what we must do. The Gospel is nothing short of the best news the world has ever heard: Our sin is forgiven. The price is paid. The work is done.
Although he was about to be beheaded, when Paul wrote to his protégé Timothy, he didn’t say, “Be strong in righteousness,” or “Be strong in your understanding of theology.” No, as good as those things may be, Paul’s final word to Timothy was, “Be strong in grace” (see 2 Timothy 2:1). The degree to which we understand that grace is not the beginning point but the only point, is the degree to which we’ll find ourselves wanting to study, desiring to pray, eager to worship . . . as grace does its work in our hearts day by day.
“Go speak to Pharaoh,” God instructed Moses. “He won’t listen to you, but that will give Me the opportunity to stretch out My hand upon the land of Egypt. As a result, the entire nation will know that I am the Lord and there is none like Me.” Yes, there would be problems. Yes, there would be tribulation. Yes, there would be difficulty, all of which would affect God’s people. But it was all part of God’s purpose and plan not only to provide liberation for His children, but to give revelation to the Egyptians.
“Lord, liberate me,” we cry. “Set me free from the snap of the whips of the Egyptian oppressors. Set me free from the bondage of baking bricks under the desert sun.”
“Gladly, for that’s My intention,” the Lord says. “But I am also doing something else simultaneously. You see, I want the Egyptians, the unsaved, the lost souls to see My power, to understand My reality. And for that to happen, there will be a series of problems which will affect you too.”
“But why do I have to endure this trial, Lord? Why can’t You take this cancer away immediately? Don’t You have that ability? Why can’t You solve the problem today? Why can’t You work now?”
And the Lord answers, “I’ve got two things I’m doing simultaneously. Yes, I’m bringing you into the Land of Promise. But at the same time, there are Egyptians watching carefully to see how you handle the same trials they face. I want them to see My power. I want them to see what I can do. I want to show them that I can see you through.”
Seeing you win the Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes doesn’t cause the Egyptian to scratch his head and say, “Wow.” No, the Egyptian scratches his head when he sees you facing problems on the job, difficulties in the family, setbacks financially, difficulties physically, and yet walking through them victoriously. God never promised to protect us from problems. He promised to see us through them. And as He does, the neighbor, the co-worker, brother, sister-in-law, or father will say, “There’s something about the way you navigate through life that I don’t understand.”
And then you can say, “It’s the power and reality, the grace and goodness of God. And He’s available for you too.”
I like that, don’t you? Aaron’s snake just got bigger and bigger as the magicians’ snakes were scarfed up. “Go into all the world and preach the Gospel,” Jesus said. “And if you come across any serpents, they will not hurt you” (see Mark 16:15-18). As Paul put wood on a fire, when a snake in the sticks felt the heat, it fastened its fangs into his hand. Observing this, the natives decided Paul must be a murderer to deserve such a fate. But when they saw him shake the snake into the fire and feel no harm, they changed their minds about him and he was able to give a grand and powerful witness for Jesus Christ (Acts 28:1–10).
As believers, we are not free from attack, but we are immune to its effect. Snakes show up and they strike. But, like Paul, we can shake them off. Even though the Enemy was able to produce snakes, Aaron’s rod ate them up.
Joshua and Caleb were among the group of twelve who spied out the Land of Promise. “The land is a glorious place,” they said to the children of Israel upon their return.
“But there are giants there. And we’re like grasshoppers in their sight,” argued the other ten.
“No. God is with us, and these guys will be bread for us. We can eat them up,” countered Joshua and Caleb (see Numbers 14:9).
But the people listened to the ten instead of the two and wandered for forty years.
After their entire generation died, Joshua and Caleb were at last allowed to enter the Land of Promise. When they arrived, a now eighty-five-year-old Caleb said, “Joshua, for my inheritance, give me the land where the giants are” (see Joshua 14:12).
Why would Caleb make such a request? Because he knew something about giants. He knew they were bread. And he was hungry. “Give me the challenges which challenge others,” he said. “Give me the giants - and pass the butter.”
Don’t run away from challenges or obstacles, gang. Instead, say, “This is a chance for me, like Aaron’s rod, to grow bigger and bigger. It’s a way for me, like Caleb, to grow spiritually strong.”
“Ask your God to take the frogs away,” Pharaoh begged Moses and Aaron.
“When do you want this to happen?” asked Moses.
In what is arguably the most amazing answer ever given in all of Scripture, Pharaoh didn’t say “Immediately!” or “Right away!” He said, “Tomorrow.” Why? He wanted one more night with the frogs. Oh, he knew they had to go - but not quite yet. Not right now.
So too, there are activities, people, or places in our lives about which the Lord says, “You thought you had that under control, all hemmed in. But now it has hopped its banks and is taking over.”
And we say, “You’re right, Lord. It has. What I’m doing with my computer is out of control. What I’m watching on TV is out of control. What I’m reading, where I’m going, the way I’m living is out of control.” But when the Lord asks us when we want to be set free, all too often our answer is the same as Pharaoh’s: tomorrow.
The problem is, by saying “tomorrow,” Pharaoh’s heart grew harder and harder still. You see, he could have gotten off relatively easy had he been serious and said, “I want the frogs to go right now. I repent of what I’ve been doing. I’m changing my way of life. Moses, you and your people are free to go.” Had he done so, Pharaoh would have spared himself, his family, and his country the unbelievable horrors that awaited them.
The Bible says, “Today if you hear His voice, harden not your hearts” (see Hebrews 4:7) because although there is pleasure in sin for a season, the end result is always destruction (Hebrews 11:25).
I find it amazing that Pharaoh would say, “Tomorrow,” until I analyze my own life and see the same tendency within me. I can hear a truth and say, “That’s right. That’s gotta go. That’s gotta be corrected, adjusted, changed, repented of. And I’m going to get right on it . . . tomorrow.” How I desire to be one who says, “This is the time - right here, right now.”
You who have heard God’s Word, you who have heard His heart, don’t be like Pharaoh and wait for your own heart to harden. Instead, say, “I’m going to go Your way, Lord, not tomorrow, not Tuesday, but today.”
God raised up Pharaoh to show all people throughout history that He is singular, that He is omnipotent, that He is sovereign. And to those who would protest that it was unfair for God to use Pharaoh in such a way, Paul would say, “Who are you to question God? Can the clay say to the potter, ‘Why did you make me thus?’ The potter has the right to do whatever he chooses with the lump of clay. And God has the right to do whatever He wants with us” (see Romans 9:21).
How arrogantly foolish of us to think that we can figure out God. Truly our God is an awesome God. Yes, He’s a loving Father, our Abba, our Papa. But He is also the One who, without any explanation, told His friend to sacrifice his son (Genesis 22:2); He is the One who struck a king with leprosy, a man who served him well, for offering a sacrifice in the Temple (2 Chronicles 26:20). I can’t read my Bible without realizing that my Father is loving and kind, compassionate and tender; but He is also awesome and huge, powerful and “other.” Yes, we rejoice in our Father. Yes, we understand His nature as we look at Jesus. But along with that, we must also understand that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 9:10). We think we have God all figured out. But one can’t read the Scriptures without coming to the conclusion that He doesn’t fit into any box very easily.
Stand in awe of God. Be amazed by His greatness, by His size, by His sovereignty. And then marvel that He’s allowed us to be brought into His family, that He’s made Himself known to us through Jesus personally, that He placed us at a time in history where the Gospel message surrounds us constantly. Sometimes I lift my hands in love and adoration to the Lord. Other times, I fall on my face on my living room floor, speechless in His presence. He raised up Pharaoh simply to show His power. And He stooped to save us to do the same.
God’s intent in baring His arm and raining plagues upon Egypt was not only so the Egyptians would see His power and superiority, but so His own people would know that He is indeed who He claims to be. Then they could pass this knowledge on to their children and grandchildren. They could learn a portion of this lesson by observing God’s dealings with the Egyptians, as the hail fell upon them and the flies tormented them. But the other part of the lesson could only be learned firsthand as they experienced the effects of water turned to blood, of frogs swarming their houses, and of lice covering their bodies.
There’s no “test-imony” without tests. A vibrant, passionate, and authentic walk with the Lord does not come from secondhand theology. It only comes through the things we experience personally.
Moses and Pharaoh had been duking it out, mixing it up, and sparring round after round . . .
Round 1:
After being punched with the plagues of blood, frogs, lice, and flies, Pharaoh said to Moses, “I’ll let you and your people serve the Lord - but you must remain in Egypt” (see 8:25).
“We’ll be stoned if we stay here,” said Moses. And both returned to their corners.
Round 2:
“I’ll let you leave the country - but don’t go very far” (see 8:28).
“We must go where God directs,” said Moses. And both returned to their corners.
Round 3:
Having been struck with boils and hail, Pharaoh said, “You and your men can go as far as you want. But your women and children must stay here” (see 10:11).
“We’re taking our families,” Moses countered. And both returned to their corners.
Round 4:
Following the double punch of locusts and darkness, Pharaoh said, “You and your families can go. But your livestock must stay.”
“No,” said Moses. “We’re going to take our families and flocks. We’re going to take our kids and our cattle. We’re going to take everything.”
Satan seeks to make people compromise in this same way today . . .
“Stay in the world,” he says. “Sure, you might have to bake a brick or two, but at least you’re familiar with the system. Why take a risk on what you can’t see? Why leave the known for the unknown? Why set your sights on a Kingdom that claims to be eternal, but still invisible?”
And when we choose to listen to God instead, Satan changes his tactic, “All right, go ahead and believe in Jesus. But don’t go too far. Don’t get too radical.”
And when we ignore him again, Satan says, “Be radical in your faith if you want. But don’t rope your kids into it. When they’re older, let them make their own decision about whether or not to follow Jesus. Until then, leave them in Egypt where they can play soccer and take ballet lessons.”
And when we decide, like Moses, that we will worship as families, Satan comes up with a final compromise: “Go ahead. Throw in your lot with God. You and your family can even be radical in your faith. But don’t spend money on it. Don’t tithe. Don’t give God His due. Don’t invest in eternity.”
“Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” Jesus said (Matthew 6:21). Had Moses left the livelihood of his people in Egypt, their hearts would remained there too. And to the degree that we sink our hearts into the soil of this world, ours remain here as well.
Why was no bone to be broken? I suggest three reasons . . .
Restoration. David - a shepherd by trade and a sheep by nature - speaks of restoration when he writes, “Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice” (Psalm 51:8). You see, in Bible days if a lamb continually placed its life in jeopardy by wandering away, the shepherd would break its legs, set the bones, and carry it on his shoulders for the following six to eight weeks until the bones were healed. During that period, the lamb would develop such a deep affection for the shepherd, that when its legs were healed, it would remain by the shepherd’s side all the days of its life. Jesus, being the sinless Lamb of God, however, had no need to be broken.
Redemption. “Where sin abounds, grace abounds more,” Paul declares (see Romans 5:20). What is the basis of grace? The blood of Calvary. Where is blood produced? In the bone. Therefore, in insisting that not a bone be broken, it’s as though God is saying, “I don’t want any suggestion that there is a limitation to the blood. I want people to understand that where sin abounds, grace always abounds more.”
Reconciliation. To hasten death, soldiers would break the legs of those being crucified. However, when they came to do this to Jesus, they were so surprised that He had died in only six hours that they poked a spear in His side to make sure (John 19:34).
If you are estranged from, or at odds with someone with whom you were once close, the only way there can be reconciliation is if someone dies. Jesus models that for you and me. He died to reconcile us to the Father, but He died quickly. It was not unusual for victims of crucifixion to prolong their lives eighteen hours or more as they hung on the cross. Not Jesus. With the work of reconciliation complete, He released His spirit relatively quickly in order that He might race to Easter, to Resurrection day. That’s the key: the sooner we die, the sooner we’ll be at Easter Sunday.
The only way a donkey could live was if a lamb was slain for it. I like this analogy. Because we know the lamb speaks of Jesus, it’s not too difficult to figure out who the donkey represents.
The donkey is mentioned twenty-five times in the Old Testament, among which are the following:
In Genesis 22, when Abraham took Isaac up to Mount Moriah, a donkey was saddled for them, which speaks of a loss of liberty.
Later in the same chapter, the donkey was to be tied up while Abraham and Isaac ascended the mountain, which speaks of an inability to worship.
As Jacob pronounces blessing on his sons in Genesis 49, he likens Issachar to a donkey that is heavily laden.
In Deuteronomy 22, we read that the ox and donkey were not to plow together, the implication being that the donkey would only slow the ox down.
In 1 Samuel 9, we see Saul trying to locate his father’s donkeys that had wandered away.
Jeremiah 22 speaks of a donkey left for dead and tossed outside the city gates.
Taken together, these references speak of you and me: laden down, tied up, lacking an ability to serve or worship the Lord, lost, left for dead, tossed out - not a very flattering picture. But the final mention of a donkey in the Old Testament is a glorious one indeed . . .
Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass. - Zechariah 9:9
A week before He would go to Calvary, Jesus said to His disciples, “Go into the village and you’ll see a donkey. Untie it and bring it to Me. And if anyone asks why you are untying it, tell him the Lord has need of it” (see Matthew 21:2-3).
“I choose a donkey,” Jesus said. “Let Alexander the Great ride on the back of his mighty black stallion. Let the Romans ride their dazzling white horses. I’ll use a donkey.”
Jesus wants to enter your city, your workplace, and your family. And He chooses to use you as a means of getting there.
“How can He use me?” you ask. “I’m nothing but a donkey.”
That’s right. And He loves using donkeys - the foolish things of the world to confound the wise (1 Corinthians 1:27). But before He can use you, you first must be untied and released because you can’t be used if you’re bound up with guilt, sin, and worry. So He sends disciples to untie you, maybe through a Bible study, maybe over the radio, or maybe with a word from the Lord just for you. Before the donkey was ridden, he was released. But before he was released, he had to be redeemed. The donkey would die unless a lamb died in its place. And that’s exactly what the Lamb of God did when He died for us.
When the Israelites left Succoth, they didn’t go to the Land of Promise. They went to Etham, a town on the brink of disaster, a town on the edge of the wilderness. In the Bible, the word “wilderness” does not refer to a land of pine trees, mountain streams, rainbow trout, and wildflowers, but to the bleak, brutal, and blistering desert.
“You brought us to the desert, Lord? There’s nothing but nothing before us,” the Israelites must have cried.
Oh, but the place is called Etham, or literally, “with them.”
“I’m with you,” the Lord declares. “I know it looks like you’re on the brink of disaster, like there’s nothing good ahead. But I’m with you to see you through.”
How can the Lord teach us He is truly with us except to take us to the desert? When everything is fine, we go on our merry way as if His presence in our lives is optional. It’s only when we’re on the brink of disaster that we realize how much we need Him.
When I heard this story in Sunday school, saw it on the flannelgraph board, or watched it in the movies, it seemed to me that the cloud was always in front of the congregation. That is, the Israelites would see the cloud off in the distance and simply follow wherever it lead. But I don’t think this was what really took place. In Psalm 105:39, we read that the cloud wasn’t ahead of the congregation, but above it, covering the congregation.
This means that when God wanted His people to move, He got them to move in a very simple, practical way. With daytime temperatures reaching 125 degrees in the desert, God put a cloud over the entire congregation to shade them. And when He wanted them to move, He would simply move the cloud, knowing His people would move as well, simply to stay in the shade.
And that’s the way the Lord directs us. “My burden is easy, My load is light,” Jesus declared (see Matthew 11:30) - a New Testament principle pictured in the Old Testament priesthood . . .
And it shall come to pass, that when they enter in at the gates of the inner court, they shall be clothed with linen garments; and no wool shall come upon them, whiles they minister in the gates of the inner court, and within. They shall have linen bonnets upon their heads, and shall have linen breeches upon their loins; they shall not gird themselves with any thing that causeth sweat. - Ezekiel 44:17–18
When you want to know what God’s will for you is, first ask yourself, Is it cool, or is it wool? Will it cause inspiration, or perspiration? “Delight thyself also in the LORD,” the psalmist declared, “and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart” (Psalm 37:4). In other words, if you delight in, love, and enjoy the Lord, He will give you that which your heart desires. How can that be? Because He has already written His will on the table of your heart (Jeremiah 31:33). The desire of the heart in fellowship with Him is His desire.
It has been rightly said that there are lots of cheap imitations of priceless masterpieces in the church today. “Look at him. Look at her. Look at them,” we say. “I’m going to be just like him or her or them.” But when we try to imitate or duplicate someone else’s calling or ministry, the best we can be is only a cheap imitation. You are a masterpiece because the Master has pieced you together to do exactly what He intended you to do since before the world began (Ephesians 1:4).
“You are His workmanship,” Paul wrote to the Ephesians (see 2:10). Poiema, the Greek word translated “workmanship,” is the word from which we get our word “poem.” You are God’s poetry. He has created you specifically and uniquely to do that which He knows will satisfy you most completely. Therefore, when you get to Heaven, the Lord is not going to say, “Why weren’t you more like Moses? Why weren’t you more like Abraham? Why weren’t you more like Paul or Billy Graham?” No. He’s going to say, “Why weren’t you more like you? Why weren’t you simply the person I made you to be - My masterpiece, My poetry?”
Don’t strive, dear saint. Don’t sweat, fellow priest. Stay in the shade and be whom the Lord intended you to be - His unique masterpiece, His inimitable poetry.
God boxed His people in between the mountains and the Red Sea as a demonstration of His preeminence. Even more fundamental than our experiencing His power and His presence is the world’s understanding of His sovereignty. “I’m going to put you in this horrible predicament, this tough spot, this brutal place,” He says, “because I want to make Myself known to the Egyptians.”
“I’m stuck in this marriage. I’m stuck with that parent. I’m stuck in a financial crunch,” we cry, failing to understand that sometimes He can touch people who don’t know Him by putting us in uncomfortable, difficult, heartbreaking, and challenging situations.
God doesn’t exist for us. We exist for Him.
So scandalized was the Church that for decades she refused to acknowledge Copernicus’ discovery. After all, how could the sun be the center of the planetary system? Surely the planets revolved around the earth, around man.
And it remains equally shocking today to discover that it is the Son rather than our own worlds, our own concerns, or our own comforts who is at the center of God’s creation. But it is not until we finally understand that we exist for God rather than He for us that the rotation of our worlds, our situations, and our lives makes sense. If the pain doesn’t go away, if the business doesn’t work out, if the marriage isn’t great, God says, “I love you. But it’s not about you. I have a bigger plan. The Egyptians are watching, and when the people you work with see you continue to praise Me, when your neighbors see you worshiping Me, when your family sees you thanking Me, I will be glorified.”
You can fight it until the day you die, or you can finally come to the place in your life where you say, “The Son is the center of everything. Come what may, the Son is the center of my universe.”
And although life might not seem fair right now, it will eventually. The waters will part, and you will be ushered into eternity where you will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant. I had you boxed in. But you stood still. You didn’t fall away. You didn’t turn back. You didn’t walk out. Enter into the joy of the Lord” (see Matthew 25:21).
Perhaps special teams football players have the best grasp of this idea. “Special teams” is suicide. Special teams charge down the field full steam ahead, throwing their bodies directly at men who are also running full steam ahead in their direction. They crack heads. They take hits. They endure pain. Why? So that the one carrying the ball can gain yards.
It’s such a simple concept, but it sometimes takes decades to understand that we’re not the sun, that we’re not the ball carrier, but that we exist for the One who is. And the degree to which we allow Him to do what He wants to do through our lives is the degree to which we will be rewarded immensely, immeasurably, and eternally.
“God is love,” John tells us (1 John 4:8).
“The Lord is a man of war,” Moses says.
Is this a contradiction?
No, because although God is indeed love, there are forces all around us which are anything but lovely or loveable. And God wages war against these forces as surely as He waged war against Pharaoh. That is why when you study the Old Testament, you’ll see violence in virtually every book. And because the Old Testament is a picture book illustrating physically what we’re to do spiritually, we’re to be violent as well (Matthew 11:12).
How?
We’re to do battle violently in prayer against the spiritual forces that seek to deceive, defile, and destroy those around us. Wife, did you do battle in prayer for your husband today? Did you pray passionately that the forces of the Enemy would not gain a toehold in his life? Dad, did you do what Job did, who energetically sacrificed for each of his children before the break of day lest they sin against the Lord? (Job 1:5). Did you pray earnestly lest they fall prey to the Enemy who seeks to derail and destroy them spiritually?
“The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much,” James tells us (5:16). Praying, “Lord, help everyone to be nice,” is neither effective nor fervent, and it doesn’t make much of an impact. God is a man of war, but He’s a gentleman nonetheless, and therefore, won’t force His way into any situation. He will wait for an invitation (Revelation 3:20). The question is, are we actively, fervently, and passionately opening the door to Him and bidding Him to come in?
As good as this song is, how much better it would have been had it been sung before the Red Sea parted, had it been sung by the children of Israel before they were rescued.
To you who are boxed in, with your back to the Red Sea, this is your moment; now is your opportunity for greatness. You see, once the Red Sea parts - once the financial crisis is over, the relationship is restored, the disease is healed - you will no longer have before you the opportunity for greatness. Then you can be grateful, but only now can you be great.
When the hour was dark, when nothing was externally right, there in the middle of a black, bleak night, what did Paul and Silas do? They sang songs of praise. And so intriguing was this to their fellow prisoners that when an earthquake caused the prison doors to open, they chose to stay in the dungeon with Paul and Silas rather than to flee, to remain imprisoned physically in order that their souls might be set free (Acts 16).
So too, you who are in a dungeon financially, relationally, or physiologically have a unique opportunity to show us greatness. And once this experience is over, you’ll never have the same opportunity again.
“I want to be like David,” we say. “I’d like to grab some stones and nail Goliath.” You can. There’s a huge giant before you, a giant headache, a giant heartache, a giant problem. Are you going to be like Saul and his men, murmuring and complaining, depressed and discouraged? Or are you going to praise the Lord in the face of the giant who seems to stomp up and down the valley of your life day after day? Ninety-nine percent of people will choose to be like Saul. This is your chance, however, to be a David.
The difficulties in the lives of any great man or woman in Scripture weren’t pleasant, weren’t easy. We know how their stories end - Joshua, Deborah, Gideon, Jeremiah, David, and Paul - but when they were living out their stories, their trials were every bit as brutal as your situation. Yet, they chose by God’s grace to be great, to be heroic. And we are the richer for it.
When there’s an ugly giant before you, or prison bars all around you, it’s your chance to be great. Don’t miss it, because, although opportunities for greatness come to everyone, they usually only come once or twice in a lifetime. Will your story be one of mediocrity, or one of greatness? It all depends on what you do this side of the Red Sea.
Feeling as though death were breathing down upon them, the Israelites’ need for water was immediate and great, when suddenly the report must have filtered through the congregation that water lay ahead. I can see in my mind’s eye the people stampeding in the direction of the report, finding a pool, and diving in, only to come up sputtering and spitting out bitter water.
The same thing happens to us. We come to our own Marah - a situation, a relationship, an occupation, or even a ministry we think will be cool and refreshing - only to find it bitter, not what we thought it would be. Why did the Lord choose Marah as a stop for His people? I believe it was to teach them three lessons, the first being that life is a mixture of sweetness and bitterness - for were it only sweet, we would have no desire for Heaven.
I believe a second lesson God wanted to teach His people at Marah was that trials are the X-rays that allow us to see what’s going on in our hearts. You see, although the children of Israel murmured against Moses, in reality, they were murmuring against God for bringing them to Marah in the first place. And the same is true of us. I will never know what’s in my heart until I dive into a pool expectantly and find it isn’t what I thought it would be. People do not make us bitter. Situations do not make us bitter. They simply show us what is already within. I know this because, when I look at Jesus, I see that, although He was spat upon, cursed at, and nailed to a Cross, He said, “Father forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing” (see Luke 23:34). No bitterness came out of Him because there was no bitterness within Him.
Third, notice that God didn’t create this tree on the spot; it was there all along. The tree in Scripture is emblematic of the Cross (1 Peter 2:24; Galatians 3), and it is the Cross of Calvary that still transforms bitter experiences, bitter people, and bitter circumstances. How? By realizing that the wrongs done to us, the offenses against us, and the disappointments registered by us have all been paid for, dealt with, and washed clean by the blood of Calvary.
Following their time at Marah, God led the children of Israel to Elim, or “mighty ones.” With twelve wells of water and seventy palm trees, God had led them to a wonderful oasis indeed. I’m so glad that the Lord not only takes us to the bitter water of Marah, but to the cool wells of Elim! It’s interesting to note that the palm tree is the only tree in the world which bears more fruit as it gets older. Another fascinating reminder is that there were twelve disciples and seventy more later whom Jesus sent out to minister. I believe this little vignette is the Holy Spirit’s way of saying that the only place we will find true refreshment is when we are “mighty ones” in ministry.
“Whatever measure you give out will be the measure you’ll get back,” Jesus told us (see Luke 6:38). At Elim, there’s no murmuring, nothing negative, nothing but refreshment in the place of service. Today, serve someone and bless someone, share your faith, intercede for someone, and be blessed and refreshed yourself in the process.
It was in the wilderness that God gave manna to His people. And it is in our wilderness here on earth that He daily provides the Bread of His Word, the Bread of Himself. If I don’t feast on the Scriptures daily, I become disillusioned, disoriented, and confused. I get mixed up on days when I don’t get away with the Lord in a quiet spot at a quiet time and enjoy the truths and promises of His Word. I think about fleshpots and the bread of Egypt; I become restless and troubled. But when I take in the Word, I find what Jeremiah said to be oh, so true. I find it to be the very joy and rejoicing of my heart (Jeremiah 15:16).
So too, like manna, Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, came to this wilderness - to murmurers, sinners, and complainers - and dwelt among us (John 1:14). God didn’t wait for the children of Israel in the Promised Land. He joined them in the wilderness. And He does the same for us. You don’t have to climb a mountain or clean up your act to find Him. You don’t have to ascend into Heaven or descend into the depths of hell and depression. He’s already as close as the word in your mouth, as close as your confession (Romans 10:8–10).
It was hunger that inevitably drove the Prodigal Son home (Luke 15:17). And it is hunger - a hole in your heart, a longing in your soul - that will drive you home as well. All you must do is humble yourself, bow your knee, and stoop to pick up the manna of the Word, the manna of the Son, which God has provided so lavishly and lovingly, so freely and faithfully.
Massah and Meribah mean “temptation” and “chiding.” It was hot. The people were thirsty. And God said to Moses, “Here’s what to do: Take the rod which had become a snake before Pharaoh, smite the rock, and out will come water.” Paul gives the interpretation of this account in 1 Corinthians 10:4, where he tells us the Rock was Jesus Christ. This means that Jesus, the Rock of our salvation, was smitten by the “serpent” of Moses’ rod - perfectly portraying the prophecy given in the garden of Eden when God said to Satan, “You shall bruise His heel, but He will crush your head” (see Genesis 3:15). Was the heel of Jesus bruised? Yes. A spike was driven through it on the Cross of Calvary. But Satan was crushed, for the power he held over us was obliterated, washed away by the blood Jesus shed that day. What happened when Jesus was pierced with the spear? Blood and water flowed from His side (John 19:34). So too, here at Rephidim, the rock, smitten by the rod that was once a serpent, pours forth water. The analogy is perfect. This passage points to Jesus.
Why would God lead His people from a place where they were being satisfied with manna to a rest stop where the drinking fountain was out of order? You might leave a Bible study or a retreat where you’ve been feasting on the manna of the Word only to find yourself in a place of dryness. “I don’t understand,” you say. “I was doing so well, but now there is a drought in my soul. Why am I so dry? Is there sin in my life?” Not necessarily. God led His people to Rephidim in order to do something very important. You see, after they ate of the manna, to make them aware of their need for a fresh drenching of water, God brought them to Rephidim to create in them a thirst for more of Him. Why would He do this? Because He knew what was about to happen.
You see, every time the Amalekites are mentioned in the Bible, they portray the ongoing war we wage with our flesh. It’s as if God says, “I know you feasted on the bread. You’ve taken in the manna. But right around the bend, right up ahead, war is about to break out. And if you try to defeat Amalek in your own strength, you’ll be trounced.” Therefore, He took His people - as He does us - to a place where they were aware of their dryness in order that, after crying out to Him, they would be empowered afresh with the water of His Spirit.
If you are going through a desert season, God has led you there. For what purpose? To create within you a craving for more of Him. “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness,” Jesus said, “for they shall be filled” (Matthew 5:6). Who is filled? The one who hungers. The one who thirsts. The one who’s at Rephidim, longing for water.
In the middle of the battle, were Joshua to look over his shoulder, he would have seen three men on a hill - the one in the middle holding a wooden rod. This makes us think of another Man on a hill, flanked by two others, arms outstretched, not holding a wooden rod, but pinned to a wooden beam. But His arms didn’t sag; His soul didn’t sag; His spirit didn’t sag. No, Jesus our Savior hung in there for you and me. And the Man in the middle not only bled and died for me, but He rose again and ascended into Heaven, where He lives to make intercession for me (Hebrews 7:25). Aaron might get busy sometimes. Hur might not always be available. But Jesus ever lives to make intercession for me. He lives to pray for me. Amazing.
“If that’s the case,” you say, “then why should we pray at all? Why not just let Him do the heavy lifting?” Because, although the victory is won, there are still mop-up operations going on. Do you want to be fruitful, successful, and blessed in the daily skirmishes of life? Do you want to see your kids do well, the Church blessed, and the country changed? Jesus won the victory completely at Calvary. All the rest is mop-up stuff. And we have the privilege of taking part. “Seek Me,” the Lord says. “Talk to Me. Call on Me with uplifted hands. And watch and see what I will do as you open the door for Me to work.”
When the battle was finally won, God instructed Moses to record what had transpired in a book - in order that future generations would know that the battle was won not with the sword in the valley of interaction, but through prayer on the mount of intercession.
Oftentimes, we think that if we were more skilled with the sword of Scripture, if we were better able to dialogue and counsel, if we could love more and do more, we’d see the salvation of our parents or grandchildren, our neighbors or friends. But this story tells us that is not where the battle is won. The battle is won through prayer.
Why is prayer so important? Because the old adage that prayer changes things is only partly true. I think it’s more accurate to say, “Faith changes things. Prayer changes me.”
Yes, God wanted the children of Israel to win the battle. But He also wanted to win the heart of Moses in a deeper way. And He wants to do the same with us. We may think that our situations need to change. God, however, knows that even if they did, we’d still be unhappy, sleepwalking through life unless our hearts were changed. Therefore He says, “Because I want to fill your heart, inflame your soul, and satisfy that ache within you which can be satisfied only by Me, you’re going to have to come to Me time after time because when you do, you’ll get to know Me in the process. And when you get to know Me, it is only then that you will be content and fulfilled, blessed and happy.”
“Behold, I stand at the door, and knock,” Jesus said. “If any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come into him, and sup with him, and he with Me.” Addressed to the Church, Revelation 3:20 tells us Jesus knocks at the door of the Church, of the heart of believers. Therefore, when we pray, we are acting as doormen, opening the door and inviting Him in. He doesn’t beat the door down. He doesn’t bust His way in. He doesn’t force His presence or force the issue. But whoever hears the knocking and is wise enough to open the door in prayer will enjoy His presence and company.
By praying, I open the door. That doesn’t mean Jesus is obligated to do what I ask or desire. That’s up to Him. I have learned, however, that if He doesn’t do what I suggest, He’ll do something infinitely better. But if I don’t open the door, if I don’t pray, I’m left on my own with my kids, my marriage, and my ministry - not a good place to be. “You have not because you ask not,” James tells us (see 4:2). It’s all about prayer.
With eagles soaring over their heads and eagles’ nests perched on the ledges of the Sinai mountain range, this image would be very clear to the children of Israel.
As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings: So the LORD alone did lead him, and there was no strange god with him. - Deuteronomy 32:11–12
After selecting a site on a high precipice, the mother eagle builds her nest. And as her newly-hatched eaglet grows, he’s comfy and cozy, until one day the mother eagle overturns the nest and the young eagle is sent tumbling downward, squawking all the way. Just before he hits the rocks below, however, the mother eagle swoops down and rescues him, bearing him upon her wings. She returns him to the nest, only to overturn it a few days later and bear him on her wings yet again. This process is repeated six or seven times, until one time, the eaglet catches a thermal and starts flying. Higher and higher he goes, set free to experience life in an entirely different dimension with a higher perspective than he ever had previously.
Because faith cannot grow in comfort and security, we’ll all be knocked out of our nests of cozy complacency from time to time. What do we do at such times? “They that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength,” Isaiah declares. “They shall mount up with wings as eagles” (40:31). To wait upon the Lord doesn’t mean to passively wait, but to wait on Him as a skilled waiter would wait on the guest of honor. To wait upon the Lord means to lavish praise, to minister, to fellowship day by day, moment by moment. And those who do, mount up with wings as eagles.
In Galatians 4, Paul says Ishmael is not only a type of the flesh and Isaac a type of the Spirit, but Hagar is a type of the law and Sarah a type of the new covenant. Hagar represents Mount Sinai, where the law was given. Sarah represents the Heavenly Mount Zion, from whence grace flows.
My natural tendency is to say, “The best way to deal with the flesh is to lay down the law. I’m going to set up rules and regulations to keep my flesh in check.” But whenever I do, I am bound to fail badly because, although the rules and regulations might be wonderful, I cannot keep them. Oh, for a while I might be able to, during which time I’ll say, “What’s wrong with you? Why is your Ishmael running about wildly? Why can’t you deal with the flesh like I have?”
But eventually I will fall under the weight of my own rules, and I will fail miserably. Then I’ll say, “I was doing so well for three days, or three months, or three years, but then I blew it. So why even go to Bible study, why even pray? I’m a failure. The Lord will never use me.”
This is why the law doesn’t work. It makes you either a self-righteous prude or a self-condemned dude. It causes us to say either, “What’s wrong with you?” or “What’s wrong with me?”
So what’s the answer? Do what Abraham did. Send Hagar away and embrace Sarah. Don’t put yourself or others under regulations or rules. Rather, hold fast to the new covenant, and walk in grace.