In Exodus 1-2, Pharaoh decides on a plan to check Israel’s expansion. He sketches an accusation based on a series of hypotheticals: “Were they to continue to multiply, and were enemies to come from some other direction, then if the Hebrews were to join with them, they could succeed in escaping from the country.”
So what does the Pharoah propose? Enslave the Israelites. The nature of the slavery? Heavy burdens, construction of storehouses with brick and mortar, work in the fields.
But Pharoah’s plan not only failed—it backfired. The Israelites’ multiplication accelerated in proportion to the oppression.
So Pharoah’s plan moves to its second stage: command the Hebrew midwives to kill all newborn baby boys. His plan was thwarted again, not because the midwives boldly defied the king, nor because of their loyalty to the Hebrews, but because they “feared God.”
Now Pharoah throws off his cloak of secrecy and moves to the third stage of his plan: the open drowning by the Egyptian populace of all male Hebrew babies.
It is against this background that the child Moses was born.
And once again Pharoah’s plan has been thwarted and in a doubly miraculous way. Moses is rescued from exposure by the very daughter of the one who made the decree!
Now let’s quickly skip the next 1500 years of biblical history and go to another passage—to Matthew 2, certainly the more familiar at Christmastime.
Although there are no explicit quotations in Matthew 2 of Exodus 2, the connections between the two chapters are clear.
Both have to do with the birth of a male child, whose life is threatened by the ruling monarch, at first secretly, but later in open hostility. The child is rescued in the nick of time, but other children are slaughtered in a vain effort to remove the threat of the one child.
Also, Matthew’s quotation from Hosea 11:1, “Out of Egypt have I called my son,” draws a parallel between Israel’s deliverance from Egypt and Jesus’ ascent from the same land. Again, the order of the angel to Joseph in Matthew 2:20 to return to the land of Israel “for those who sought the child’s life are dead,” is a clear reference to Moses’ instructions from the Lord in Exodus 4:19, “Go back to Egypt; for all the men who were seeking your life are dead.”
In both accounts, God’s plan for his people has a very fragile beginning. In both, the child serves as the not-yet-revealed instrument of God’s intervention, and in both cases the thread on which everything hangs is exceedingly thin.
In contrast, the power of the world seems so impressive and invulnerable. Pharoah senses a threat and devises his plan, long before the Hebrews are in the least prepared to resist. The magi appear so naïve and powerless before the scheming intrigue of the king. And, in both cases, when secret plans fail, ungloved fists are ready to strike in an instant.
Both stories witness to the wonderfully unexpected rescue from a humanly impossible situation. Exodus delights in the rescue by Pharoah’s daughter. Matthew allows the magi the full and complete joy of the Christ-child, before Mary and Joseph are warned of the terrible danger from the king.
Finally, both stories testify to the suffering of the people. The grim reality is that even when redemption finally comes, it is accompanied, not by the heroic martyrdom of the brave partisan, but by the senseless murder of children.
In Matthew though, the threat no longer comes from the pagan king of a hostile empire, but from Herod, the king of the Jews. The Messiah of God has forced a wedge into the Solidarity of the chosen people. Christ calls forth his most bitter opposition from within his own people.
That’s where you and I come into the picture this Christmas, because the story which began in Exodus and continued in Matthew is not yet over. It’s taken up again in Revelation 12.
The struggle for the child has taken on cosmological dimensions. The whole church, not just the innocents, is enveloped in a struggle for life, and is urged both to rejoice and to endure. The end is already in sight. That is the promise of Advent.
But, “so what?” What difference to your life and mine does this story make?
Down through the years, Jesus’ followers, like Moses and Jesus himself, have been misunderstood, rebuffed, and/or rejected by the followers of the dragon who “went off to make war on the rest of [the church’s] offspring, on those who keep the commandments of God and bear testimony to Jesus.” (Rev. 12:17).
The question we should each ponder this Christmas is—what is my relationship to Jesus the Christ? The issue at stake has always been, and still is, a claim to authority. Where does ultimate authority reside for you?
God grant that a recognition of what Christ has done and is doing for you may warm your heart anew this Christmas so that you will be found among those who bear testimony to Jesus, the Christ, your Savior and mine!
(With thanks to Brevard Child’s commentary on Exodus for some of his ideas.)
Larry Geraty has served two universities as president, taught Hebrew Bible and archaeology at the Seminary, and led archaeological expeditions and tours to Jordan and Israel. He and his wife, Gillian, have been best friends for seventy years.