The Lord Jesus Christ, sent from God on a merciful errand to a lost world, did not come empty; no, he is fraught with all blessings suitable to all persons, extending to all times, enduring to all eternity. —John Newton, Works
Author: Josh King
Poetic Justice (Exodus 7:14–25)
In the Exodus, how many signs are there? How many wonders? How many great acts of judgment? We speak of the ten plagues, but the Scriptures talk of signs, wonders, and acts of judgment. In 4:17 Moses was told to take the staff with which He will do the signs (4:22). The staff/serpent gig is clearly a sign. So, Pharaoh receives not ten, but eleven signs. Still, the staff/serpent sign is clearly not one of the “wonders” that God “strikes” Egypt with (Exodus 3:19).
What we commonly call the ten plagues are linked together as a set—ten wonders, ten great acts of judgment. Yet, this first wonder, and second sign, of water being turned to blood clearly forms an inclusio, that is, a form of literary brackets, with an eleventh wonder, the parting to the Red Sea. The first wonder foretells of the last. The previous Pharaoh commanded, “Every son that is born to the Hebrews you shall cast into the Nile, but you shall let every daughter live (Exodus 1:22).” That very river turns to blood. The firstborn of Egypt die in the “final” wonder that brought them out of Egypt. Pharaoh’s heart grows hard again (remember this is God’s doing, cf. Exodus 4:22; 9:16; 14:8). He pursues Israel to the Red Sea, and there, his host is drowned.
This isn’t just justice. It’s poetic justice. The wrath that falls on Egypt has a beauty, a wonder, a rhythm, and a poetry to it. It has motifs and themes. It swells and moves. It is God’s orchestration. A symphony unto His own glory. This is no mindless rage. Wisdom unsurpassed has penned notes of wonder long ago for glory. One day, this motif will reach it’s pre-composed crescendo, and we will sing for its glory.
The second angel poured out his bowl into the sea, and it became like the blood of a corpse, and every living thing died that was in the sea.
The third angel poured out his bowl into the rivers and the springs of water, and they became blood. And I heard the angel in charge of the waters say,
“Just are you, O Holy One, who is and who was,
for you brought these judgments.
For they have shed the blood of saints and prophets,
you have given them blood to drink.
It is what they deserve!”And I heard the altar saying,
“Yes, Lord God the Almighty,
true and just are your judgments!”—Revelation 16:3–7
The Penning Pastor: A Tree Without Root
A Christian is the child of God by faith in Christ: he draws near to God in the name of Christ: he is led and supported by the Spirit of Christ: Christ is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, of the faith, hope, and love of every believer. From him alone every good desire proceeds: by him alone every good purpose is established: in him alone any of our best performances are acceptable. Let us beware (it is a necessary caution in these days) of a Christianity without Christ. I testify to you in plain words, that this is no better than a house without a foundation, a tree without a root, a body without a head, a hope without hope; a delusion, which, if persisted in, will end in irremediable destruction: “for other foundation can no man lay, than that which is laid, Christ Jesus ;” he is the corner-stone, “chosen of God and precious.” Alas! for those who are offended with him in whom God is well pleased! but those who trust in him shall never be ashamed. —John Newton, Works
Why Delay Checkmate? (Exodus 6:28–7:13)
God isn’t going to do a quick job with the Egyptians; He’s going to take it slow. The point isn’t merely rescue, but renown (Exodus 7:5). God doesn’t just win the game, He shows off, and humiliates His foes. God could’ve had checkmate on the first move, but takes out every other piece before He takes the queen, and leaves the king standing to behold it all.
In all the signs, including the staff being turned into a serpent and swallowing the other serpents, God is mocking their gods. Picture King Tut. Between his head is a uraeus, a cobra with a raised hood. This was part of the headdress of the Pharaohs, a symbol of power and authority, likely associated with the goddess Wadjet, oen of the protectors of Pharaoh and Egypt. One ancient text says of Pharaoh, “His gods are over him; his uraeus serpents are over his head.” A later Egyptian relief says of Pharaoh Shoshenq “Thy war-mace, it struck down thy foes… they serpent-crest was mighty among them.”
Pharaoh asks for proof (Exodus 7:9). Is there a real and legitimate authority behind Moses and Aaron’s talk of Yahweh? The staff, a symbol of God’s authority and power, is thrown to the ground and becomes a serpent. The magician-priests of Egypt do the same, but they are swallowed. The message is clear. Imagine a sorcerer-king came from another nation to the U.S. with demands and as proof of his smaller and “primitive” nation’s superiority, he unleashed an eagle that swallowed all the bald eagles in the States. Something like that is happening. God is not just demonstrating His power, He is shaming their’s. God is shaming their glory.
When God redeems His people He does so in style with glory. His aim isn’t just rescue, but renown. He shames His enemies.
And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him. —Colossians 2:13–15
O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. Out of the mouth of babies and infants, you have established strength because of your foes, to still the enemy and the avenger. —Psalm 8:1–2
He shames, for His glory in His people’s redemption.
For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written, “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.” Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” —1 Corinthians 1:18–31
Why intentionally delay checkmate? Glory!
The Penning Pastor: And All the Preachers Said…
Undoubtedly I derive from the Gospel a peace at bottom, which is worth more than a thousand worlds. But though I rest and live upon the truths of the Gospel—they seldom impress me with a warm and lively joy. In public, indeed, I sometimes seem in earnest and much affected—but even then it appears to me rather as a part of the gift entrusted to me for the edification of others, than as a sensation which is properly my own. For when I am in private, I am usually dull and stupid to a strange degree, or the prey to a wild and ungoverned imagination; so that I may truly say, when I would do good, evil, horrid evil, is present with me! Ah, how different is this from sensible comfort! and if I was to compare myself to others, to make their experience my standard, and was not helped to retreat to the sure Word of God as my refuge, how hard would I find it to maintain a hope that I had either part or lot in the matter! What I call my best times, are when I can find my attention in some little measure fixed to what I am about; which indeed is not always, nor frequently, my case in prayer, and still seldom in reading the Scripture. My judgment embraces these means as blessed privileges, and Satan has not prevailed to drive me from them. But in the performance of them, I too often find them tasks; feel a reluctance when the seasons return, and am glad when they are finished. O what a mystery is the heart of man! What a warfare is the life of faith! (at least in the path the Lord is pleased to lead me.) What reason have I to lie in the dust as the chief of sinners, and what cause for thankfulness that salvation is wholly of grace! Notwithstanding all my complaints, it is still true that Jesus died and rose again; that he ever lives to make intercession, and is able to save to the uttermost! But, on the other hand, to think of that joy of heart in which some of his people live, and to compare it with that apparent deadness and lack of spirituality which I feel—this makes me mourn. However, I think there is a Scriptural distinction between faith and feeling, grace and comfort—they are not inseparable, and perhaps, when together, the degree of the one is not often the just measure of the other. But though I pray that I may be ever longing and panting for the light of his countenance—yet I would be so far satisfied, as to believe the Lord has wise and merciful reasons for keeping me so short of the comforts which he has taught me to desire and value more than the light of the sun! —John Newton, Works
It’s Easier to Split an Atom (Exodus 6:1–27)
The recipe of redemption:
- Take God’s covenant with Abraham.
- Cut along the present dividing the covenant past (Exodus 6:3–5) from the covenant future (Exodus 6:6–8). [NOTE: This step is impossible, God’s covenant faithfulness in the past cannot be separated from our present, not the future, but just pretend.]
- Add Yahweh at the beginning, end, and in-between. [NOTE: Again, this is just a mental exercise. God is the beginning, God is the end, and when you make your imaginary split between the past and the future, you’ll find that God is already there too.]
God’s name (Yahweh) and His covenant are linked together. In Exodus 6:3–8 if God isn’t saying “I am Yahweh,” He is saying something that regards His covenant. Four times, at the beginning, end, and betwixt all the covenant talk, God declares, “I am Yahweh.” God’s name speaks to who God is in Himself. Yahweh is the I AM, He has aseity, is immutable, incomprehensible, and holy just for starters. But His name isn’t merely tied to who He is, it also concerns what He does. God’s name is part of God’s redeeming covenant love. He redeems His people to Himself to know Him, and to know that all that He is, He is for them. They are redeemed to know that Yahweh is their God and that their God is Yahweh.
When God tells His people who He is, the definition isn’t theoretical and abstract, but practical and concrete. Yahweh delivers and redeems His people (Exodus (6:6), and then takes them to be His people, adopts them, so that they might know He is Yahweh their God (Exodus 6:7).
The patriarchs didn’t know God by his name, but in the title “God Almighty” (El Shaddai). This isn’t to say that they didn’t know God’s name, but that they didn’t know God in His name. If you looked in their mental dictionary the entry “Yahweh” was there, followed by a pronunciation guide, but the definition was blank. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob called upon the name of Yahweh. They knew the name, but God had not made Himself known in His name. Now God is giving the definition, and the definition isn’t a short one. God’s was just getting warmed up at the burning bush. God’s elucidation of His name continues throughout the whole of Exodus. Look up “Yahwah” in the dictionary, and the entire text of Exodus follows.
But even then God isn’t finished showing us how His name and covenant are forever linked. The definition isn’t really filled out until we come to Jesus, the Greek variant of Yeshua, meaning “Yahweh saves.” In the name and person of Jesus, we see God’s name and covenant fully intertwined and inseparable.
Thus Says Yahweh (Exodus 5:1–23)
“Thus says Yahweh…,” so chapter six of Exodus begins; by the end, everyone doubts this. There are several conversations in chapter 6: Moses and Aaron speak to Pharaoh (vv. 1–5), Pharaoh speaks to the taskmasters and foremen (vv. 6–9), the taskmasters and foremen speak to Israel (vv. 10–14), the foremen speak to Pharaoh (vv. 15–18), the foremen speak to Moses and Aaron (vv. 19–21), Moses speaks to Yahweh (vv. 22–23). Everyone is talking, no one is listening—to God. Yahweh speaks, men ignore; well, at least, they try. By the end of the book, no one will doubt Yahweh has spoken; well, at least for a while.
Pharaoh’s refusal cannot silence Yahweh’s word’s of judgment. Israel’s grumbling cannot hush Yahweh’s words of grace. Thus says Yahweh. YHWH has spoken. It will be done. “Who is Yahweh?” Pharaoh asks. He will receive an education. Israel has not listened, but God still hears His prophet intercede for His people. He hears Moses’ prayers (Exodus 5:22–6:1ff), He hears His people’s groaning (Exodus 6:5). Pharaoh has not listened to Yahweh, nor does he hear the Hebrew’s cries (Exodus 5:15–19), but God has spoken and God listens.
“Thus says Yahweh,” those words will not fall flat. They may fall as quiet snowflake, but it is the snowflake that starts the avalanche. Yahweh’s words don’t dissipate, they swell. His voice does’t just carry, it’s self-amplifying. They are words so loud they will make the hearing deaf and the deaf hearing.
Yahweh has spoken words of judgement and grace. There’s a lot of talk, and little listening. Yahweh speaks, men ignore, or so they try. By the end of the book, when the author has finished speaking the tale of this age, when His words have swelled to the point that a new heaven and a new earth are on the verge of being, no one will doubt “thus says Yahweh.” On that day, no one will doubt the words of the One whose word holds them together. If He didn’t speak they would not be; recognizing this, all heads will be bowed, with mouths silent and ears attentive, to His words of judgment and grace. Thus says Yahweh.
The Penning Pastor: The Good of Evil
An evil nature cleaves to me; so that when I would do good, evil is present with me. It is, however, a mercy to be made sensible of it, and in any measure humbled for it. Ere long it will be dropped in the grave; then all complaints shall cease. That thought gives relief. I shall not always live this poor dying life: I hope one day to be all ear, all heart, all tongue: when I shall see the Redeemer as he is, I shall be like him. This will be a heaven indeed, to behold his glory without a veil, to rejoice in his love without a cloud, and to sing his praises without one jarring or wandering note, for ever. In the mean time, may He enable us to serve him with our best. O that every power, faculty, and talent, were devoted to him! He deserves all we have, and ten thousand times more if we had it; for he has loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood. He gave himself for us. In one sense we are well suited to answer his purpose; for if we were not vile and worthless beyond expression, the exceeding riches of his grace would not have been no gloriously displayed. His glory shines more in redeeming one sinner, than in preserving thousand angels. —John Newton, Works
Unless YHWH Is YHWH (Exodus 4:18–31)
God hardened Pharaoh’s heart.
Pharaoh hardened his heart.
Pharaoh’s heart was hard.
Which one is it? Yes. Perhaps you’d like to pretend that these things were happening at different times and that it all started with Pharaoh hardening his own heart; that God only steps in to further harden that which is already irreparably hard. Make God’s hardening pointless—that’ll solve our problems? Nope. Can’t do that. These are synonymous. These are all happening at the same time; and over them all, God is sovereign. God declares that this is His intention from the beginning (Exodus 3:19, 20; 4:21) , and He tells Pharaoh why, “For by now I could have put out my hand and struck you and your people with pestilence, and you would have been cut off from the earth. But for this purpose I have raised you up, to show you my power, so that my name may be proclaimed in all the earth (Exodus 9:15–16).” YHWH could have made quick work of Pharaoh, but that won’t do. God want’s wonder upon wonder to fall on Pharaoh so that His renown might echo through the earth.
How’s that for a truth to make palatable? More sugar please? This makes no sense, unless YHWH is YHWH. Own that, and you’ll bow. Jonathan Edwards got this (by got, I mean received; and by received, I mean by grace).
He hath mercy on some, and hardeneth others. When God is here spoken of as hardening some of the children of men, it is not to be understood that God by any positive efficiency hardens any man’s heart. There is no positive act in God, as though he put forth any power to harden the heart. To suppose any such thing would be to make God the immediate author of sin. God is said to harden men in two ways: by withholding the powerful influences of his Spirit, without which their hearts will remain hardened, and grow harder and harder; in this sense he hardens them, as he leaves them to hardness. And again, by ordering those things in his providence which, through the abuse of their corruption, become the occasion of their hardening. Thus God sends his word and ordinances to men which, by their abuse, prove an occasion of their hardening.
There it is. YHWH is YHWH. God is God. Because of the curse, for soil to grow hard and wild, nothing need be done but let it alone. So it is with man’s heart. So it is because of man’s heart. Dirt is a parable (Matthew 13:1–7). Soil isn’t self-softening. The Farmer doesn’t just spread the good seed, He preps the soil. We’re rocks. God restrains. If He did not, we would plunge into darkness. Down. Down. Down. This is our sinful trajectory. We are totally depraved. Sure, we’re not as wicked as we could be, but we are totally, altogether wicked. None does good. Any “civil virtue” we may exhibit is really “pretty idolatry.” In unbeliever’s every “good” act, something is being worshipped, and it ain’t Jesus, or they wouldn’t be unbelievers. Wickedness is in every crevice of our being: will, affections, desires, thoughts, inclinations, et cetera. We’re not a sin blackout, but every part is shaded in. We’re not naturally good. We’re subdued, limited, restrained, and most importantly, graced. Should God let the rocks fall, it would be nothing but an act of justice; a holy, righteous judgment on every son of Adam.
YHWH is YHWH. This is His prerogative. “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The LORD.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy (Exodus 33:19).” “The LORD,” meaning YWHW, and YWHW, in part meaning, “I will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.” Some receive mercy. Some receive justice. No one receives injustice. Behind all of this: YWHW. “You will say to me then, ‘Why does he still find fault? For who can resist his will?’ But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, ‘Why have you made me like this?’ Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use? What if God, desiring to show his wrath and to make known his power, has endured with much patience vessels of wrath prepared for destruction, in order to make known the riches of his glory for vessels of mercy, which he has prepared beforehand for glory (Romans 9:19–23).” Justice justly falls on some to magnify the graciousness of grace. “But we all deserve grace!” Isn’t that a contradiction? Further, if we’re not in hell, we’re all experiencing some degree of grace (common, non-salvific grace, but grace nonetheless) and spurning it, thus proving, we don’t at all, all deserve grace.
Moses is a sinner. Praise God, Moses, by the Spirit, paints Moses as Moses was. In chapters two through six Moses beats everyone else to the punch and roasts himself. God is the hero. Pharaoh sins again and again and finds justice. Moses, along with Israel, sins again and again, and finds grace. The only thing that makes the difference, is YHWH, the covenant God of unfailing love for His elect people. YHWH is YHWH. Realize this, and you don’t choke on the thought of sovereign justice; you get choked up thinking about sovereign grace.
Not a Dainty Grace (Exodus 4:1–17)
As Moses’ sinful questions mutate into brazen objections, God’s grace grows more firm. God’s grace isn’t fragile. It isn’t a dainty grace. When God sets His covenant love on sinners, sinners’ sins don’t change His covenant love; God’s covenant love changes sinners. We’re told Moses’ sins aroused God’s anger, and what do we see next? Preplanned grace (4:14). God’s grace is always preplanned. To put a spin on Spurgeon, if God didn’t love His people before the foundation of the world, it’s certain He’d never see cause, in them, to love them afterward.
God’s grace isn’t a dainty grace. You can’t shatter it. It’s child proof; indestructibly designed by a Father who knows us. You can’t break this grace. It breaks you. This isn’t the kind of grace that sweeps sin under the rug, but propels us out the door. This is persistent and insistent grace that covers and refuses our objections.
God’s grace throws us in the deep end and then is there to keep us from drowning. Remember Jonah? God’s firm grace got Jonah to Nineveh. The book ends with Jonah rebelliously pouting. Or does it? Who wrote the book of Jonah? I believe it was Jonah. The book ends then as Jonah’s expression of the ugliness of his sin and the beauty of God’s grace. Good parents often make their children do things they’re fearful of and the children are often thankful after the fact. I’m sure, once Jonah set his pen down, it was with a contented sigh of thankfulness that God threw him in the deep end and was there to keep him from drowning, even in his own sins. Once Moses returned to Sinai, certainly, he too was thankful that God’s grace was made of adamant.
There is grace for those who are ambassadors of grace. Not a grace that excuses our sins, but a grace that leaves us without excuses.
No Other Boast 