1. ASSUMPTIONS WE MAY BRING TO EXODUS 1:1-2:10

There are two principal assumptions or experiences that we can bring to the Book of Exodus that may impact our understanding. First, Exodus speaks powerfully to the minds and hearts of anyone experiencing exploitation and injustice precisely because of its account of Israel’s liberation. Secondly, Exodus also addresses the tension many Christians feel between what we read in the Word of God and what we feel in our own human experience. Let’s examine each in turn.

The Longing for Liberation

Although some nations today can take their political independence almost for granted and doubt that they will ever be enslaved, many people around the world are only too painfully aware of injustice, oppression, and political domination, and yearn for freedom.

You don’t have to know too much history to be aware of how freedom from imperial control and the gaining of political independence and democracy can be a momentous turning points in the life of nations.¹See, for example, Martin Meredith, The State of Africa: A History of the Continent Since Independence (Simon & Schuster, 2011). It is not too difficult to imagine how vivid the Book of Exodus would be to the consciousness of such people, retelling as it does the account of the liberation of an enslaved nation by Moses, the patron saint of all freedom fighters. Some theologians in Africa and Latin America, for example, have argued that Exodus provides us with a charter for Christian-Marxist dialogue. They see Exodus as giving us a foundation for a Biblical doctrine of revolution – a liberation theology.²Gustavo Gutiérrez, A Theology of Liberation: History, Politics, and Salvation (Orbis Books, 1973), 25-37, 157, 159-160, 176-178. Also note Gutiérrez’s use of Exodus in later works, such as The Power of the Poor in History (SCM Press, 1983), 27-29, 118-119; We Drink from Our Own Wells: The Spiritual Journey of a People (SCM Press, 1984), 11, 73; The God of Life (SCM Press, 1991), 4, 50. Also see Leonardo Boff, Introducing Liberation Theology (Orbis Books, 1987), 35.  African examples include Desmond Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness, (Image Books, 1999); A. A. Boesak, Farewell to Innocence: A Socio-Ethical Study on Black Theology and Black Power (Orbis Books, 1974); Mercy Amba Oduyoye, Introducing African Women’s Theology (Sheffield Academic Press, 2001); Isabel Apawo Phiri, ‘African Women’s Theologies, African Women’s Religions: Locating Gender in Southern African Religious Histories,’ in O. Kalu ed., African Christianity: An African Story (Africa World Press, 2007), 502-517. Asian examples include Aloysius Pieris, An Asian Theology of Liberation (Orbis Books, 1988); C. S. Song, Third-Eye Theology: Theology in Formation in Asian Settings (Orbis Books, 1979); Kwok Pui-Ian, Postcolonial Imagination and Feminist Theology (Westminster John Knox Press, 2005). The appeal of such an interpretation is obvious. Ever since slaves in the cotton plantations in the United States composed the famous spiritual, ‘Let my people go,’ such an understanding of the Exodus narrative has been a source of encouragement and inspiration to oppressed people. And the Bible does portray God as a God of justice, who is on the side of the downtrodden and calls for his people to act justly, defend those suffering injustice, and care for those who are vulnerable (for example, Pss 12:5; 72:12-14; Isa 1:17; 58:6-7; Mic 6:8; Luke 4:18-19; and Jas 1:27).

Indeed, some argue that people enjoying affluence and political freedom can never really appreciate Exodus’ portrait of God as a liberating God. Only personal involvement in a situation of exploitation and oppression like the Israelites experienced, they contend, can help Exodus to have real application and relevance for us. And we should admit that comfortable Christians sitting in cosy churches may have less immediate emotional engagement with a book like Exodus than brothers and sisters in challenging circumstances for whom Exodus may be all too compelling and vivid.

It would also be a mistake to assume that such exegetical approaches to Exodus were limited to ‘liberation theologians’ in the 1960s-1980s. It is worth recognising that the Exodus narrative has not only been read by those fighting economic exploitation. The same approach to Exodus developed in liberation theology has been used to argue for equality, justice, and liberation for other marginalised and oppressed communities ever since. For example, it has been employed to inform feminist, queer, and womanist theological reflections and advocacy. Just as Moses liberated the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, it is argued that women, LGBTQI, and other ‘oppressed minorities’ should not continue to be victims of androcentric, heterosexist, and patriarchal theologies, but should instead empower themselves and heed God’s call to be his chosen people.³Wilda C. Gafney, Womanist Midrash: A Reintroduction to the Women of the Torah and the Throne (Westminster John Knox Press, 2017), argues that ‘Exodus looms large in biblical and postbiblical interpretation, Jewish and Christian writers – liberationist, womanist, feminist, postcolonial, queer and more – have crafted a secondary canon interpreting Exodus that is itself the subject of interpretation. The story of Exodus provides a template for American expansion into the West and subjugation (and extermination) of America’s native peoples, and for the self-liberation of enslaved African peoples in the Americas. Its liberating paradigm supplies rhetoric and imagery for LGBTQI folk coming out of spaces in which human dignity has been eclipsed’ (175). See also Marcella Althaus-Reid, Indecent Theology: Theological Perversions in Sex, Gender, and Politics (Routledge, 2000). Althaus-Reid was part of the growth of liberation theology in Latin America and employs a queer liberationist reading of texts like Exodus to challenge normative sexual and gender identities, advocating for the liberation of marginalized sexualities and the embrace of diverse identities. Similar approaches have been adopted by Richard Cleaver, Know My Name: A Gay Liberation Theology (John Knox Press, 1995), 10-13.

However, it does have to be said that involvement in such a real-life struggle against injustice or oppression, as well as having the potential to enrich and deepen our study of Exodus, may also run the risk of distorting our understanding of the text.

It is all too easy to read the Scriptures through the lenses of our political prejudices. And even though we will want to be aware of our own blind spots, it does seem that those who wish to use Exodus to justify Christian advocacy for various minorities are failing to notice the most central and vital aspect of the whole book.

Even a quick reading of Exodus demonstrates that Moses and Israel did not win their independence from Egypt at all. There were no Hebrew freedom fighters plotting guerrilla campaigns in the desert. We read of no ‘Israelite Liberation Front’ in the Book of Exodus. God’s people are presented to us, particularly in Exodus’ early chapters , as oppressed to the point of utter helplessness. Other nations may sing of their struggle for liberty, but Israel was not able to struggle. Israel did not emancipate herself. She was liberated by God.

The Terrible Tension

Second, throughout the Bible, from the Garden of Eden to the Book of Revelation, there is a conflict for God’s people between the voice of their lived experience and the Word of God. Indeed, all Christians down the centuries can testify to this terrible tension. And we know this struggle ourselves as we seek to live and speak for God in the world today. For example, the Bible tells us that God loves us from everlasting to everlasting (Psa 103:17). And yet, many of us will have found ourselves in situations when our experience appears to be telling us that God does not care. The Word of God tells us that God is passionately committed to his people and yet our experience urges us to believe that God is somehow neglecting us.

Or think for a moment about what Scripture teaches us about God’s power. For example, Romans 1 declares that the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ is the power of God for salvation. So, if we want to see where God’s power is most clearly at work today then we should look to where the gospel of Christ is being proclaimed in homes and workplaces and in churches and public squares. But sadly, how often does it feel like that as we try to speak of Jesus to our friends and family, to colleagues and communities? When the Apostle Paul says that he is not ashamed of the gospel, it is striking precisely because we are often tempted to be ashamed of the gospel, and to view it as irrelevant and powerless. Our experience at times may make us wonder if the gospel of Christ is weak. Even if our churches have good sized congregations, they are dwarfed by the numbers who attend football matches or political rallies around the world. Compare the numbers who watch television shows with those who listen to the gospel each week. Much of the time, our experience shouts to us that the gospel is ineffective, unimpressive, and irrelevant.

The tension between the Word of God and our human experience is a deep and painful one, and it is a conflict that we all encounter. But the big mistake we make is to think that it is a modern problem, that it is perhaps due to science or the sophistication of our twenty-first century world. We may imagine that it was somehow easier to believe in God’s Word in the first century, as if people were credulous back then and would believe anything. That is not only what C.S. Lewis called ‘chronological snobbery’,⁴C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (Collins, 1955) 207-8. Lewis shares it as a lesson learned from his friend, Owen Barfield, and defines chronological snobbery as, ‘the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate common to our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is on that account discredited.’ Lewis urges us to find out why a view went out of date. If it was never refuted but merely passed out of fashion then it ‘tells us nothing about its truth or falsehood.’ but also, it does not stack up against the evidence of history or the Bible. Ever since Genesis 3, there has been that terrible tension between the voice of human experience and the Word of God. And this poses questions for us: which voice will we believe? Which voice will shape our lives, the values that we hold, the goals towards which we strive, and the decisions we make each day?

And that is why we need the Book of Exodus. It will not only reveal God to us and speak to us about his salvation. But, as it does so, it will teach us why the voice of human experience is ultimately unreliable and why the Word of God, despite all appearances, turns out to be totally trustworthy.

2. IDENTIFYING THE MAIN STRUCTURE OF EXODUS 1:1-2:10

Some commentators like to regard the first two chapters of Exodus as a single unit whereas others prefer to divide them into three units.⁵James S. Ackerman, ‘The Literary Context of the Moses Birth Story (Exodus 1-2),’ in K. R. R. Gros Louis ed., Literary Interpretations of Biblical Narratives (Abingdon, 1974), 74-119. Cf. Brevard Childs, The Book of Exodus (Westminster Press, 1974). However, the symmetry and balance of 1:1-2:10 suggests it is best viewed as a single unit, even as a possible prologue to Exodus as a whole.⁶D. W. Wicke, ‘The Literary Structure of Exodus 1:2-2:10,’ Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 7:24 (October 1982), 99-107.

Five observations can be made.

First, there is a special framework that separates this unit from what follows. So, in 1:1 we are given ‘the names of the sons of Israel who came to Egypt’ and we note that in the original Hebrew, both ‘name’ (šm) and ‘came’ (b’) are repeated at the end of the unit in 2:10 as the child is taken (wtb’hw) to the daughter of Pharaoh and is given the name (šmw), Moses. Indeed, the the framework may be even tighter with the named sons of Israel becoming a nameless number of slaves by the end of 1:1-14, whereas the unnamed child in 2:1-2 receives a name by 2:10.⁷Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 99-100. These suggest that 1:1-2:10 is best taken to be a single unit and should be interpreted as such, especially as such literary devices are often used not only to mark out a specific section of a text, but also to emphasize key themes or messages central to that passage.

Second, there is balance between 1:1-14 and 2:1-10. So, 1:1-14 introduces us to ‘the sons of Israel’ (the phrase occurs five times in these verses) and their experience in Egypt and 2:1-10 focuses in on one of these sons, Levi, and his experience. There are also striking textual similarities between the two outer sections, including: the growth of Israel and the growth of Moses (1:7; 2:10); and the Israelites’ slave labour in mortar (bhmr) and brick and Moses’ mother daubing the basket with bitumen (bhmr) and pitch (1:14; 2:3). These similarities invite readers to explore these sections in parallel and look for development between the two of them.

In addition, textual contrasts between 1:1-14 and 2:1-10 serve to underline the balance between them, including: that the death of Joseph and his generation are the trigger for the conflict with Pharaoh in 1:1-14, whereas it is a birth that leads to confrontation with Pharaoh’s daughter in 2:1-10.  Further, a new king did not know Joseph (1:8) in contrast to the infant’s sister who stood at a distance to know what would be done to him (2:4).; And the Egyptians loathed the sons of Israel in 1:12 but Pharaoh’s daughter had compassion on the child in 2:6. Finally, the conflict in 1:1-14 is between nations (note the repetition of ‘nation’ or ‘people’ in 1:9), whereas it is between individuals in 2:1-10.⁸Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 100-101.

Such similarities and contrasts encourage us to wonder if God may be able to rescue Israel from her dire predicament in the same way that Moses is rescued, and so spur us to read on in the narrative.

Third, we can also see movement from general to specific as we proceed from 1:1-14 to 2:1-10. For example, from the sons of Israel to one family within the house of Levi. Ackerman observes ‘how the narrative gradually focuses the story upon the figure of Moses, moving from the nationwide oppression (1:8-14) to the slaughter of the new-born males within a given region (1:15-22) to the plight of one single family, through whose wiles the murderous plot of Pharaoh is reversed (2:1-10).’⁹Ackerman, ‘Literary Context,’ 85; cf. Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 100.

Fourth, the central section of this unit, 1:15-22, acts as a bridge between the two outer passages and details Pharaoh’s attempt to use the midwives to destroy the sons of Israel.  This central unit appears to be characterised by a structure often used to grab our attention, to emphasise that the points being made are very important. It does this by repeating words in reverse order:¹⁰Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 101-103. The technical name for this structure of words is ‘chiasmus,’ in which words are repeated in reverse order so as to speak persuasively.

• A1 Pharaoh’s command to the midwives (15-16)
  • B1 The midwives fear God and so disobey Pharaoh (17)
    • C The King’s charge against the midwives and their response (18-19, 20)
  • B2 The midwives fear God and are rewarded by the Lord (21)
•    A2 Pharaoh’s command to all his people (22)

In contrast to the movement from general to specific in the two outer sections above, we see a movement here from the specific to the general. So, Pharaoh’s instruction to individual midwives in 1:15-16 extends and intensifies to a ‘command’ to the whole nation in 1:22. There is also a textual comparison and contrast between B1 and B2: the midwives feared God and so did not do (asu) as the king directed and, because of their godly fear, God made (yass) houses for them.¹¹Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 102-103.

Finally, as many commentators have noted, the three sections of this unit are all laden with irony. For example, the new king of Egypt who seeks to deal shrewdly with the sons of Israel (1:10) is left looking a fool after the two midwives’ disobedience leaves his plan in ruins (1:15-22). When the king resorts to genocide and orders all Hebrew sons to be thrown into the Nile (1:22), the boy’s mother complies with the letter of the law by putting her own son into the river (2:1-3) but Pharaoh’s plan is nonetheless scuppered as his own daughter disobeys the command and rescues the child from the Nile (2:5-10).

3. UNDERSTANDING EXODUS 1:1-2:10 IN ITS LITERARY CONTEXT

Obscured by many English translations, the Hebrew text of Exodus begins with the conjunctive waw (‘and’), to highlight the connection between the first two books of the Bible. In addition, the phrase ‘these are the names of the sons of …’ occurs repeatedly in Genesis to introduce a genealogy (for example, Genesis 25:13; 36:10, 40) and the opening words of Exodus are an exact copy of Genesis 46:8. It is fair to conclude that ‘Exodus, therefore, is not really a story in its own right, but the continuation of the story begun in Genesis and a bridge to what follows.’¹²P. E. Enns, ‘Exodus,’ New Dictionary of Biblical Theology (IVP, 2000), 146; cf. J. D. Currid, A Study Commentary on Exodus, Volume 1: A Clear and Present Danger (Evangelical Press, 2000), 35-36. Durham argues that to omit the ‘and’ in translation is mistaken: ‘The connection of the text of Exodus with what has preceded it must be emphasized, not further obscured’ (J. I. Durham, Exodus [Word Biblical Commentary] (Word, 1987), 3-4). The opening verses of Exodus may not strike us as a particularly exciting start to the book until we realise that the author is deliberately pointing us back to the Book of Genesis and explicitly extending its narrative as he does so.

For example, verse 1 reminds us of the final chapters of Genesis and the journey taken by Jacob’s family into Egypt (Genesis 42-47). The list of the twelve sons of Jacob in verse 2 establishes links with the middle chapters of Genesis. It tells us about the six sons born to Leah (listed first in verses 2-3b), Benjamin, the son born to Rachel (verse 3c), the two sons born to each of Bilhah and Zilpah (verse 4), and about Joseph, the son of Jacob and Rachel in verse 5 (cf. Genesis 29-32).¹³Currid (Exodus, 37) notes that this register of names is ‘exactly the same as the one in Genesis 35:23-26,’ which further suggests the author’s ‘reliance upon a preceding Genesis account. Currid, Exodus, 37. Joseph was already in Egypt as a result of his brothers’ wickedness and the Lord’s gracious providence (cf. Genesis 35-37).¹⁴Umberto Cassuto was perhaps the first to point out that the sons are not listed in strict chronological order but in order of the women to whom they were born (U. Cassuto, A Commentary on the book of Exodus (Magnes Press, 1967), 8). Finally, after telling us about the death of Joseph and all his brothers and all that generation in verse 6, the author takes us back to the beginning of Genesis with the glorious image of fruitful life in verse 7 (cf. Genesis 1:26-28).

The start of Exodus also makes it clear that some time had elapsed since the end of Genesis: ‘Then Joseph died, and all his brothers and all that generation. But the people of Israel were fruitful and increased greatly; they multiplied and grew exceedingly strong, so that the land was filled with them’ (1:6-7). The use of the ‘swarming’ verb to refer to human life (rather than to frogs or fish, cf. Genesis 1:20), used only here and in Genesis 9:1-7 in God’s promise to Noah and his sons, ‘dramatically underscores’ Israel’s fertility. The Israelites had become a ‘teeming swarm’ in Egypt.¹⁵Durham, Exodus, 4. So, despite Joseph’s death in verse 6, there is an encouraging echo of Genesis 1, where God’s blessing to humankind was unpacked: ‘And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it …”’ (Gen 1:28).¹⁶Also note the similarity of the language in Genesis 9:1 and 47:27. Enns (‘Exodus,’147) is right to spot the use of ‘swarming’ vocabulary and note the links with Genesis 1:21 and 8:17, concluding that ‘“Swarming” is something that God’s created beings do.’ God’s people may not yet be in the promised land, but Exodus starts with a reminder that God was keeping his promises and accomplishing his purposes (Genesis 12:1, 17:2).¹⁷Cf. J. A. Motyer, The Message of Exodus: The Days of Our Pilgrimage. Revised Edition (IVP, 2021), 29, note 3; also, Currid, Exodus, 38. Israel have been fruitful and multiplied into a great nation such that Egypt is swarming with them.

However, it is surprising that when the Exodus action begins, we discover not more examples of God intervening in history to advance his purposes, but the extraordinary opposition encountered by God’s purposes. We hear about regime change:

‘Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph. And he said to his people, “Behold, the people of Israel are too many and too mighty for us. Come, let us deal shrewdly with them, lest they multiply, and if war breaks out, they join our enemies and fight against us and escape from the land”’ (Exod 1:8-10).

The first thing we learn about this new Pharaoh is that he did not know about Joseph’s wise stewardship of Egypt’s resources under the rule of his predecessors or how, through Joseph, God had blessed the world in a time of famine (cf. Genesis 41). Secondly, we are told that Pharaoh seeks to be shrewd to prevent God’s people from being fruitful and multiplying and from leaving the land of Egypt. In seeking to be cunning in his dealings with Israel, Pharaoh reminds us of another crafty character in Genesis 3 (the serpent, the devil) who was also opposed to God’s Word and to God’s purposes.

The Pharaohs in Ancient Egypt were the epitome of human power in the world. Believing himself to be Divine, Pharoah was worshipped by his subjects as a god. No one questioned him. He was not accountable to a parliament or his people. The Bible’s perspective on this remarkably powerful figure in Exodus highlights his zealous opposition to God’s purposes. Without any mention of Israel having offended Pharaoh in any way, he dedicates himself to destroy God’s people and so puts himself on a collision course with God. God is keeping his promises and accomplishing his purposes. Pharaoh is ignorant of God’s promises and directly opposed to God’s purposes. However, our passage reminds us that God cannot be stopped.

Pharaoh’s first idea was to enslave the Israelites (1:11-14). Note how the vocabulary conveys an image of bitter, burdensome, ruthless, and violent servitude.¹⁸The five verbs here seem to balance the five verbs denoting prosperity in verse 7 and help us to see how far things had changed since the arrival of the new leadership in verse 8. Motyer highlights the ruthless and violent vocabulary used (Exodus, 28, especially note 2). But we are also told that Pharaoh’s economic exploitation of Israel failed as ‘the more they were oppressed, the more they multiplied and the more they spread abroad’ (1:12). Pharaoh wanted to stop Israel from growing but the more he oppressed them, the more God blessed them, and so the more they multiplied (note the echo of Genesis 28:14 and 30:30, 43, where although Jacob was afflicted by Laban, Jacob’s flocks were increasing). The writer wants us to see that nothing can prevent God from achieving his purposes, even the most powerful person on the planet.

Pharaoh resorts to an even more brutal plan in verses 15-21, as he commands the midwives to spare Hebrew daughters but to kill all new-born Hebrew sons. The NIV changes the Hebrew ‘son’ and ‘daughter’ to ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ but that misses the bloodthirsty nature of Pharaoh’s edict. These were ‘not just boys and girls who were being killed or kept alive, it was sons and daughters, and we get a glimpse of the personal anguish this caused.’¹⁹Motyer, Exodus, 28. Amazingly, given the universal submission of people to Pharaoh, we are told how this scheme also failed due to the godliness of outwardly unimportant women, ‘But the midwives feared God and did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but let the male children live’ (verse 17).

Many commentators notice the irony of these modest midwives, Shiprah and Puah, being remembered individually while the all-powerful Pharaoh remains unnamed in Exodus 1. For example, Motyer concludes, ‘This is Exodus’ perception of who is important and who is not.’²⁰Motyer, Exodus, 29 note 6. As a result, far from being eradicated, we are told that Israel ‘multiplied and grew very strong’ (verse 20). Despite an apparently unexciting start, Exodus urges us to see that God is keeping his promises and accomplishing his purposes.

Tragically, Exodus 1 ends with Pharaoh underlining his fanatical opposition to both God’s people and God’s purposes. Shunning any subtlety at this stage, he seeks to engineer the end of Israel by means of a genocide: ‘Then Pharaoh commanded all his people, “Every son that is born to the Hebrews you shall cast into the Nile, but you shall let every daughter live”’ (verse 22). This epitome of the world’s human power enlists all of Egypt in his plot to destroy God’s people. How could such a plan be prevented? How could such wickedness fail eventually to destroy the Israelite people with every Egyptian involved? What hope could there be for Israel? And even more importantly, what hope now for God’s purposes if his promises to bless the whole world rested on Israel? It is difficult to read the first chapter of Exodus without concluding that those promises of God to Abraham in Genesis 12-17 – promises to bless his descendants and, through those descendants, to bless the whole world (12:1-3) – now appear to be in serious jeopardy.

Can you imagine being an Israelite and thinking anything else as Exodus starts? Their eyes would show them that they are in Egypt, far from the promised land. And their bodies would tell them that they are not blessed but in brutal bondage. And their families would declare to them that they are facing extermination. Can you picture it – seeing your son taken, hearing him sob as, along with thousands of others, he is thrown helplessly into the Nile? Would not the voice of their human experience be shouting to them that God had forgotten his people and his promises? Do you think it was easier for an Israelite in Egypt in Exodus 1 to believe in God’s promises than it is for us today? Reading Exodus in the light of its literary context, namely, the Book of Genesis, helps us to dwell on this tension between God’s word of promise and the experience of the Israelites.

And as we do, and as we read Exodus 1 carefully, so we observe glimmers of hope. Even though God is not mentioned, we hear echoes of Genesis as we read of God’s people being fruitful and multiplying (1:7, 12, 20). Not only does that remind us of God’s promises to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the language of being fruitful and multiplying points us back further to Genesis 1 and God’s purpose for humanity. This echo makes us wonder how God will fulfil the other aspects of his agenda, namely his people ruling the world in freedom (rather than suffering oppression) and dwelling in the land he promised them (not in Egypt) and Exodus will unpack those ideas for us.

However, this echo also helps us to read Exodus 1-2 through a Genesis-shaped lens. So, it is unlikely to be a coincidence that, after humanity’s rebellion in Genesis 3, Divine curses were declared both on human work (Adam was told it will be toil) and on childbearing (which Eve was informed would be painful). Exodus 1 expresses Pharaoh’s tyranny in the same two areas: the Israelites’ work became bitter slavery, and their childbearing became precarious. Genesis 3 also prepares us for a conflict between the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent. And although Exodus 1-2 presents Pharaoh as the all-powerful seed of the serpent seeking to stamp out the seed of the woman, we also witness God protecting his people. In other words, Exodus 1-2 invites us to read on for a resolution of  two sets of opposing tensions or battles: (1) the goodness of God’s creation and the curse on it that Adam and Eve’s sin has brought; (2) God’s covenant promises to Abraham and Pharoah’s satanic opposition.

And these are all highlighted for us in Exodus 2, where the camera zooms in from the big picture of Exodus 1 and focusses in on one family and what must have been a very ordinary but ominous event:  ‘Now a man from the house of Levi went and took as his wife a Levite woman. The woman conceived and bore a son, and when she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him three months’ (Exod 2:1-2). How often that must have happened? Can you picture the scene? How many children were born when the announcement that it was a boy brought no happiness and joy but, rather, anxiety and terror to a mother’s heart? New parents know all too well the concern not to disturb neighbours with a child crying in the night, but can you imagine how often this mother must have cradled her son, terrified in case there was a knock at the door?

But, as you will remember, events then took a very surprising turn: ‘When she could hide him no longer, she took for him a basket made of bulrushes and daubed it with bitumen and pitch. She put the child in it and placed it among the reeds by the riverbank. And his sister stood at a distance to know what would be done to him’ (Exod 2:3-4). Having bravely hidden her son for three months while soldiers would have been searching Goshen to kill new-born boys, this infant’s mother then places her son in a basket. She appears to comply with Pharaoh’s command to cast infant boys into the Nile but when we understand more about this basket, we realise it to be an incredible exercise of faith in God (cf. Hebrew 11:23). You see, the word unhelpfully translated here as ‘basket’ is elsewhere translated as ‘ark’ and suddenly the details of verse 3 – how it was painted with bitumen and pitch – make sense to us. This is like Noah’s ark, but on a smaller scale (Genesis 7:1)! And the question is what would become of this child and what would become of God’s promises that appear to depend on this child? We are not left waiting long before the next extraordinary events occur:

‘Now the daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her young women walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her servant woman, and she took it. When she opened it, she saw the child, and behold, the baby was crying. She took pity on him and said, “This is one of the Hebrews’ children.” Then his sister said to Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and call you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Go.” So the girl went and called the child’s mother. And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this child away and nurse him for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed him. When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, and he became her son. She named him Moses, “Because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water”’ (Exod 2:5-10).

In yet another strange twist in this tale, we are reminded that Pharaoh’s violent opposition to God’s purposes is again thwarted and, this time, by seemingly insignificant women.

In so doing, it alerts us to the theme that what happens to the rescuer will also happen to the people he rescues. For example: as Moses is rescued through water, so the people of Israel will walk through the Red Sea in Exodus 14; as Moses leaves Egypt as a result of the death of an Egyptian later in Exodus 2, so the Israelites will depart after the final plague on the firstborn in Exodus 12-13; and as Moses goes out into the wilderness and meets God in a fire at Horeb and is given instructions, we will read later of the people likewise going out into the wilderness, encountering the LORD at Sinai and receiving God’s law. Notice how Moses is a forerunner who prefigures what will happen to the people – he was saved, they will be saved.

4. UNDERSTANDING EXODUS 1:1-2:10 IN THE CONTEXT OF THE WHOLE BIBLE

We may be tempted to ignore or neglect Exodus given its remoteness in time and geography. However, Christians need to recall how the Apostle Paul reminded the church in Corinth that events in Exodus were written for our instruction. They may have happened ‘back then’ and ‘over there’ to God’s people, but they are more than simply ancient history or a compelling tale. The Apostle Paul reminds us, living where we are in the 21^st century, that the lessons of Exodus have direct application to Christians today (1 Cor 10:11): as sin and devil seek to move us away from God, the source of all good, God remains faithful and has given us a way of escape.

We have seen how, like a second season of a TV series, Exodus picks up where Genesis ended, for the narrative was far from complete. Genesis taught us that the world in which we live is not a chaotic accident but is, instead, the result of a purposeful Creator. It told us that, despite the dreadful rebellion of humankind against our Creator and the disastrous consequences of our insurrection, God’s purpose is nonetheless to bless his world. And to demonstrate that God’s purpose had not been thwarted in Genesis 3-11, we saw God choose Abraham.

In Genesis 12-17, God promised to take Abraham and to make him into a great nation, to place him in a promised land, to bless him and, through his offspring, to bless the world. And Genesis 18-50 showed that, slowly but surely, God was indeed advancing his purposes as Abraham’s family grew. So, ‘his ever-expanding family were uniquely favoured people. He had known the call of God (Gen 12:1), and the Divine promise of innumerable descendants and of a land to live in’ (Gen 17:5, 8).²¹Motyer, Exodus, 1.

As Exodus begins, Israel was not yet a great nation – just seventy people – and nor were they in the promised land because a famine forced them to flee to Egypt, but the author picks up where Genesis ended as a book about God’s purposes that God promised to accomplish. Indeed, although the reference to Jacob’s descendants being seventy persons in Exodus 1:5 may initially sound insignificant, it is worth recalling it first appeared in Genesis 46:26-27, which informed us that only Jacob’s direct descendants were included. Therefore, daughters-in-law and others were not numbered among the seventy.²²Currid, Exodus, 37. However, by the time we reach Exodus 1:7, as we saw above, God had been faithful to his promise of many descendants, miraculously multiplying the ‘seventy souls into a teeming swarm.’²³Durham, Exodus, 5. But the reference to seventy people also reminds us of the reference to seventy nations in Genesis 10’s table of nations. So, perhaps what we are witnessing in Exodus 1 is nothing less than a new humanity, a new Adam,²⁴Cf. Exodus 4:22-23 and the reference to Israel as God’s firstborn son. who will be brought up out of this symbolic land of death in Egypt, through the wilderness and ultimately into the land of promise. Therefore, like a new Adam in a new garden, Israel will be given a new opportunity to live in covenant relationship with God.

We have also seen the connection between Exodus 1:1-2:10 and the promises made to the patriarchs. That link becomes explicit at the end of Exodus 2, where we are told that the Israelites cried out for help and ‘God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob’ (2:24). This highlights the fact that Israel’s liberation was not because of any revolutionary passion or prowess shown by his people but because God was keeping a promise. It also underlines that the God of Exodus is ‘the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’ (3:16).²⁵Enns, ‘Exodus,’ 147. The author is deliberately connecting Exodus to God’s sovereign plan in Genesis. This is the one plan and purpose of God that we see unfolded in all ages even as he uses various people at various times and in various ways throughout Scripture.

It is not surprising, given how prevalent the Exodus motif is throughout the Bible, that we should find references and allusions to Exodus 1:1-2:10 in many parts of the Old Testament. For example:

1. Future generations of Israelites were to remind their children that they had once been slaves in Egypt, to underscore God’s grace in rescuing his people, and to motivate ongoing obedience of God’s law and right worship of the Lord (Deut 6:20-25; 26:5-11; Pss 78; 105).
2. It also served to remind future generations that Israel had not been redeemed from slavery because of any merit in themselves but solely due to God’s sovereign election of them and his covenant faithfulness. The fact that God kept his covenant guarantees that he will remain faithful to those who love him and not slow to bring retribution to those who hate him and should again motivate covenant obedience (Deut 7:7-11).
3. God’s goodness to Israel in Egypt’s ‘house of slavery’ also serves to highlight the ungrateful wickedness of Israel’s subsequent disobedience, and so underpins the Lord’s case against Israel which occurs again and again in prophetic literature (see, for example, Micah 6:1-8).

Likewise, allusions to the early chapters of Exodus are also apparent in the New Testament:

1. Jesus’ birth narrative in Matthew 1-2 contains many echoes of Exodus 1-2. Both accounts start with a genealogy and include a Divine deliverance from a wicked king’s attempt to kill new-born boys.²⁶Brevard Childs, The Book of Exodus (Westminster Press, 1974), 24-25, and F. D. Bruner, Matthew: A Commentary, Volume 1: Matthew 1-12, Revised and Expanded Edition (Eerdmans, 2007), 75-76. The similarity is even greater when one recalls how Mary and Joseph escaped from Herod’s genocide into Egypt. As Matthew Henry remarked, ‘This was not the first Joseph that was driven from Canaan to Egypt [by] the anger of his brethren.’²⁷Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible, Volume 5: Matthew, 1-448 (1721), 15.
2. When Stephen recounts the history of Israel in Acts 7, he dwells on the patriarchs’ sale of Joseph into Egypt, God’s rescue of Joseph from all his afflictions and his rise to become ruler over Egypt, Jacob’s journey during the famine into Egypt, and the subsequent Pharaoh’s shrewd dealings with the Israelites (Acts 7:9-19). However, Stephen went on to highlight the Israelites’ rejection of Moses to accuse his audience of acting just like their ancestors had acted in rejecting Christ (Acts 7:20-43, 51-53).
3. In contrast, Paul’s account of Israel’s history in Pisidian Antioch in Acts 13, including how God ‘made the people great during their stay in the land of Egypt’ (Acts 13:17), serves to underline God’s faithfulness to his covenant and how Christ is the fulfilment of the patriarchal promises (Acts 13:16-33).

5. IDENTIFYING THE DOCTRINAL ISSUES AND IMPLICATIONS IN EXODUS 1:1-2:10

As students of Scripture, we will want to reflect on what we are learning about God and allow those insights to conform our thinking (and living) to God’s Word. In this passage, we learn several things about God, including more about his commitment to his covenant promises and his Divine sovereignty and providence.

God’s Covenant Faithfulness

The narrative of our passage and its connection to the Genesis patriarchal narratives demonstrate God’s unwavering commitment to his covenant promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Despite the passage of time since the promises were made and the Egyptian attempts to suppress them, the Israelites flourish and multiply. God’s promise to make Abraham’s offspring into a great nation is being fulfilled (1:1-7; cf. Gen 12:1-3; 46:3-4). Further, as the prior context of Genesis chapters 1 to 11 shows, that promise to Abraham will be fulfilled in the reversal of the Fall which has chaotically and evilly embraced all people, all nations, all individuals. For, God promises him, ‘in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed’ (Gen 12:1-3). The fulfiller of that is the son of David, the son of Abraham, the Lord Jesus Christ (Matt 1:1-17).

By nature, God is faithful (for example, Deut 32:4; 1 Thess 5:24). In other words, the Lord is dependable and trustworthy: ‘As such a God of truth and faithfulness, he keeps covenant … and is a completely trustworthy refuge for all his people … His faithfulness comes out in that he is and remains the God of the covenant and completely grants salvation.’²⁸Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, ed. John Bolt and trans. John Vriend (Baker Academic, 2004), 2:208. God’s faithfulness is the foundation of the covenant, ensuring its stability and the fulfilment of his promises. God’s covenant is, therefore, an assurance of his grace and mercy.

Furthermore, God’s faithfulness is not simply for a season. As we saw in Exodus 1:8-22, God’s fidelity endures despite powerful opposition and awful external circumstances so that ‘the more [God’s people] were oppressed, the more they multiplied and the more they spread abroad’ (1:12; cf. Deut 7:7-9; Psa 89:34-37; Isa 54:10).²⁹See also Exodus 1:20; cf. Genesis 17:2, 6; 22:17; 26:4: 28:14; 35:11. As the Lord of the covenant, God is unchanging in his faithfulness to his covenant promises (Mal 3:6; Mic 7:19-20). He will not forget his promises or forsake his people.

Christians can be comforted that God will be with us in Christ, as he was with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, for Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Heb 13:8). Even when the writer to the Hebrews calls the first covenant ‘obsolete’, he can do so not because God will violate its terms, but because he will fulfil those terms in a far more wonderful way than the Jews imagined. God’s covenant faithfulness means that his promises endure: in and through the Lord Jesus Christ, all the nations of the world are blessed (Heb 6:17-20).

God’s Sovereignty and Providence

God’s sovereignty is evident in the preservation and growth of the Israelites despite the harsh oppression and attempted genocide by Pharaoh (1:7, 12). The multiplication of his people demonstrates God’s sovereign power in fulfilling his promise to Abraham irrespective of any human opposition. God powerfully turns Pharaoh’s evil plans into a means of preparing Israel for deliverance and highlights God’s providence in working all things, including suffering and oppression, for the ultimate good of his people (cf. Gen 50:20; Rom 8:28).

God’s providential care is remarkably evident in the birth and survival of Moses (2:1-10). Pharaoh’s edict to kill every Israelite male infant is subverted by God’s almost amusing and ironic orchestration of events. First, Moses’ mother faithfully attempts to protect her son by placing him in an ark even as she technically complies with Pharaoh’s infanticide as she casts him into the Nile (2:1-4; cf. Gen 7:1). Secondly, Pharaoh’s own daughter rescues the child from the river (2:5-7). Divine providence is breathtaking. God can even use Israel’s enemies as a means of blessing them. Pharaoh had commanded that everyone in Egypt throw all the sons of Israel into the Nile, but the Lord had ordained that this Hebrew child would be rescued from the river by the hand of Pharaoh’s own daughter. Thirdly, the boy’s sister was waiting nearby and asks if she can find a wet nurse for the princess, who then agrees to pay Moses’ mother to raise the boy! These three examples serve to remind us that God’s providence is wiser and more wonderful than our human minds can imagine.

God is sovereign and not even the most powerful person on the planet can prevent God from accomplishing his purposes for his people. The repeated ironies in this passage illustrate and reinforce this truth. Pharaoh wants the waters of the Nile to be his means of slaughtering the sons of Israel, but God uses the waters of the Nile as a means to save Moses. A daughter, who Pharaoh allowed to live, is used by God to thwart Pharaoh’s plan to kill her brother. Despite following his orders for her son’s destruction (albeit slightly amended), Moses’ mother saves her son. A member of Pharaoh’s own family undermines his plan and saves the very person who will be used by God to liberate Israel from Egypt. An Egyptian princess takes the advice of a Hebrew slave girl, which results in Moses’ mother being paid by Pharaoh’s treasury to do what she most wants to do. In 1:1-2:10, we see this powerful man’s plans scuppered by five women, who have no obvious power in themselves. And yet, because God is sovereign and is free to use anyone or anything to work his will and accomplish his purposes, these five women foil Pharaoh and rescue the redeemer of Israel.

Far from concluding that there is no rhyme nor reason when we suffer tests and trials or, even worse, sinfully assume that God has forgotten his people or his promises, we should recall that the Lord is always alert and watchful. He is constantly working out his plan despite all appearances to the contrary and will work all things for the ultimate good and glory of his people.

6. CONCLUSION

Although Exodus may be used by many, past and present, to call for political-economic liberation and an end to social and physical injustice, it suggests a superficial interpretation and application of the book. Exodus is not the story of a human political initiative at all. It tells us about a Divine miracle. It is the account of how God intervened directly in history and, without any co-operation from his people (and sometimes despite their active reluctance), delivered Israel from the hand of her oppressor. Exodus does not present us with lessons about how to wage culture wars or how to advocate for revolution. No, Exodus presents us with a true story about Divine salvation. The early chapters underscore this for the readers by connecting the narrative to the grand plotline of Genesis and the whole Bible. Reading it as a continuation of the Genesis true story will enable Christians to mine its riches and avoid misunderstanding.

Exodus 1-2 reminds us that, as powerful and as painful as human experience may be, there may be more going on than we can see or imagine. Life was as bleak as it could be for Israel, but God had made a promise to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and nothing would prevent him from keeping his word to them and their descendants, certainly not a ruler like Pharaoh. These chapters assure us that the LORD our God is in control and powerfully able to work all things for good according to his sovereign purposes, both for our eternal good and for his greater glory. Our call is to know the LORD our God and to trust him. We are to trace how all those promises will be fulfilled in Jesus, whose own birth mirrors the experience of Israel in these chapters, and to cling to Christ, our perfect refuge.

7. FOR FURTHER EXPLORATION

• Tim Chester, Exodus for You (The Good Book Company, 2016).
• John D. Currid, A Study Commentary on Exodus, Volume 1: A Clear and Present Danger (Evangelical Press, 2000).
• J. A. Motyer, The Message of Exodus, The Bible Speaks Today (IVP, 2021 revised edition).
• Andrew Sach & Richard Alldritt, Dig Even Deeper: Unearthing Old Testament Treasure (IVP, 2010).

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• 1
  See, for example, Martin Meredith, The State of Africa: A History of the Continent Since Independence (Simon & Schuster, 2011).
• 2
  Gustavo Gutiérrez, A Theology of Liberation: History, Politics, and Salvation (Orbis Books, 1973), 25-37, 157, 159-160, 176-178. Also note Gutiérrez’s use of Exodus in later works, such as The Power of the Poor in History (SCM Press, 1983), 27-29, 118-119; We Drink from Our Own Wells: The Spiritual Journey of a People (SCM Press, 1984), 11, 73; The God of Life (SCM Press, 1991), 4, 50. Also see Leonardo Boff, Introducing Liberation Theology (Orbis Books, 1987), 35.  African examples include Desmond Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness, (Image Books, 1999); A. A. Boesak, Farewell to Innocence: A Socio-Ethical Study on Black Theology and Black Power (Orbis Books, 1974); Mercy Amba Oduyoye, Introducing African Women’s Theology (Sheffield Academic Press, 2001); Isabel Apawo Phiri, ‘African Women’s Theologies, African Women’s Religions: Locating Gender in Southern African Religious Histories,’ in O. Kalu ed., African Christianity: An African Story (Africa World Press, 2007), 502-517. Asian examples include Aloysius Pieris, An Asian Theology of Liberation (Orbis Books, 1988); C. S. Song, Third-Eye Theology: Theology in Formation in Asian Settings (Orbis Books, 1979); Kwok Pui-Ian, Postcolonial Imagination and Feminist Theology (Westminster John Knox Press, 2005).
• 3
  Wilda C. Gafney, Womanist Midrash: A Reintroduction to the Women of the Torah and the Throne (Westminster John Knox Press, 2017), argues that ‘Exodus looms large in biblical and postbiblical interpretation, Jewish and Christian writers – liberationist, womanist, feminist, postcolonial, queer and more – have crafted a secondary canon interpreting Exodus that is itself the subject of interpretation. The story of Exodus provides a template for American expansion into the West and subjugation (and extermination) of America’s native peoples, and for the self-liberation of enslaved African peoples in the Americas. Its liberating paradigm supplies rhetoric and imagery for LGBTQI folk coming out of spaces in which human dignity has been eclipsed’ (175). See also Marcella Althaus-Reid, Indecent Theology: Theological Perversions in Sex, Gender, and Politics (Routledge, 2000). Althaus-Reid was part of the growth of liberation theology in Latin America and employs a queer liberationist reading of texts like Exodus to challenge normative sexual and gender identities, advocating for the liberation of marginalized sexualities and the embrace of diverse identities. Similar approaches have been adopted by Richard Cleaver, Know My Name: A Gay Liberation Theology (John Knox Press, 1995), 10-13.
• 4
  C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (Collins, 1955) 207-8. Lewis shares it as a lesson learned from his friend, Owen Barfield, and defines chronological snobbery as, ‘the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate common to our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is on that account discredited.’ Lewis urges us to find out why a view went out of date. If it was never refuted but merely passed out of fashion then it ‘tells us nothing about its truth or falsehood.’
• 5
  James S. Ackerman, ‘The Literary Context of the Moses Birth Story (Exodus 1-2),’ in K. R. R. Gros Louis ed., Literary Interpretations of Biblical Narratives (Abingdon, 1974), 74-119. Cf. Brevard Childs, The Book of Exodus (Westminster Press, 1974).
• 6
  D. W. Wicke, ‘The Literary Structure of Exodus 1:2-2:10,’ Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 7:24 (October 1982), 99-107.
• 7
  Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 99-100.
• 8
  Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 100-101.
• 9
  Ackerman, ‘Literary Context,’ 85; cf. Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 100.
• 10
  Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 101-103. The technical name for this structure of words is ‘chiasmus,’ in which words are repeated in reverse order so as to speak persuasively.
• 11
  Wicke, ‘Literary Structure,’ 102-103.
• 12
  P. E. Enns, ‘Exodus,’ New Dictionary of Biblical Theology (IVP, 2000), 146; cf. J. D. Currid, A Study Commentary on Exodus, Volume 1: A Clear and Present Danger (Evangelical Press, 2000), 35-36. Durham argues that to omit the ‘and’ in translation is mistaken: ‘The connection of the text of Exodus with what has preceded it must be emphasized, not further obscured’ (J. I. Durham, Exodus [Word Biblical Commentary] (Word, 1987), 3-4).
• 13
  Currid (Exodus, 37) notes that this register of names is ‘exactly the same as the one in Genesis 35:23-26,’ which further suggests the author’s ‘reliance upon a preceding Genesis account. Currid, Exodus, 37.
• 14
  Umberto Cassuto was perhaps the first to point out that the sons are not listed in strict chronological order but in order of the women to whom they were born (U. Cassuto, A Commentary on the book of Exodus (Magnes Press, 1967), 8).
• 15
  Durham, Exodus, 4.
• 16
  Also note the similarity of the language in Genesis 9:1 and 47:27. Enns (‘Exodus,’147) is right to spot the use of ‘swarming’ vocabulary and note the links with Genesis 1:21 and 8:17, concluding that ‘“Swarming” is something that God’s created beings do.’
• 17
  Cf. J. A. Motyer, The Message of Exodus: The Days of Our Pilgrimage. Revised Edition (IVP, 2021), 29, note 3; also, Currid, Exodus, 38.
• 18
  The five verbs here seem to balance the five verbs denoting prosperity in verse 7 and help us to see how far things had changed since the arrival of the new leadership in verse 8. Motyer highlights the ruthless and violent vocabulary used (Exodus, 28, especially note 2).
• 19
  Motyer, Exodus, 28.
• 20
  Motyer, Exodus, 29 note 6.
• 21
  Motyer, Exodus, 1.
• 22
  Currid, Exodus, 37.
• 23
  Durham, Exodus, 5.
• 24
  Cf. Exodus 4:22-23 and the reference to Israel as God’s firstborn son.
• 25
  Enns, ‘Exodus,’ 147.
• 26
  Brevard Childs, The Book of Exodus (Westminster Press, 1974), 24-25, and F. D. Bruner, Matthew: A Commentary, Volume 1: Matthew 1-12, Revised and Expanded Edition (Eerdmans, 2007), 75-76.
• 27
  Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible, Volume 5: Matthew, 1-448 (1721), 15.
• 28
  Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, ed. John Bolt and trans. John Vriend (Baker Academic, 2004), 2:208.
• 29
  See also Exodus 1:20; cf. Genesis 17:2, 6; 22:17; 26:4: 28:14; 35:11.