We Who Wrestle With God--Exodus 2:2-3

Day 19

About 500 years after Abraham, Moses shows up in Exodus.

And of course there is not one thing normal about his entrance.

As I read through the tale of Moses' birth (Exodus 2), I could just imagine the psychological truth bombs that Dr. Jordan Peterson was going to explode.

Of course, that’s the point of We Who Wrestle With God: Perceptions of the Divine–examining the ancient, foundational stories of the Bible through a psychological lens.

So, to read through Peterson’s work is to have your discernment radar turned up full blast. There are some concepts that seem a stretch to me–even if they are thoughts I’ve never had.

And I don’t mind new thoughts and different ways of looking at things.

Like the lesson yesterday about the importance of hospitality to strangers and the diversity of thought they may bring–my big takeaway was I could be meeting Jesus and his angels when I run into strangers.

So, just about like every other ancient, foundational story that Peterson examines, Moses’ birth is messy (not in the physical way, although it probably was) but in the way Moses is brought up.

Because the Pharaoh of Egypt (some say Ramses II, others say Thutmose I, and still others like Amenhotep II as the one–but no on really knows exactly), put a death sentence on Hebrew baby boys, Moses’ mother, Jochebed, hid him in the bulrushes by the Nile.

Exodus 2:2-3 2 And the woman conceived and gave birth to a son; and when she saw that he was beautiful, she hid him for three months. 3 But when she could no longer hide him, she got him a papyrus basket and covered it with tar and pitch. Then she put the child in it and set it among the reeds by the bank of the Nile.

My first thought was that killing every male Hebrew baby is just from some crazed Pharaoh almost 3,000 years ago and couldn’t happen today.

But some of the modern sensibilities about selective abortion (for babies with congenital defects–like Down Syndrome) come close to this kind of genocidal policy.

So I prepared myself for a long, hotly contested, political slog through Peterson’s gobs and gobs of erudite and ridiculously difficult language about how Moses' origin story seems messy but isn’t any messier than today when Pro-Choice and Pro-Life factions are pitted against each other.

But that’s not where Peterson went.

What he did formulate was much more interesting to me because his thoughts helped me focus on my own origin story.

Peterson writes about Moses abandonment as something we all go through–if not actually, then psychologically:

“Every human being is a child of Nature and Culture, or of Nature and God, even more so than of his or her own parents; that every child grows up alienated from his or her rightful kingdom, ensconced for some time among those too common to realize his or her light under a bushel to disguise what is best about them, to avoid that the One True King must realize his transcendent parentage and grow in consequence to take his proper place of ultimate responsibility and destiny. This dual parentage motif also dramatizes the fact that with maturity we must cease laying responsibility for the existential conditions of life at the feet of our parents, and assign instead to the broader forces of biology and society.”

Somehow, we all get placed eventually in the bulrushes–where nature, our culture, the worldliness of our society, and hopefully, God–will have their way with us.

And so it seems that our parents letting us go out into the world on our own is, maybe, as courageous an act as Moses’ mother hiding him in the weeds by the Nile.

Or maybe the courageous act in this day and time, is having a baby at all.

Seems like there is a dearth of baby making these days.

Putting Moses in the reeds was a small courageous act by his mother–one that I’m sure was heart-rending and probably seemed futile.

But I think God uses just such acts of faith in Him to build us up and change a situation for us.

Charles Spurgeon describes the faith required to make such a dreadful, futile choice in The Hiding of Moses By Faith:

“Both the parents of Moses believed, so my text says, and both acted by faith in disobeying the cruel order of the king. If they had not agreed about it, I do not see how Moses could have been concealed, but they both went together in the hiding of the child, and dear friends, how well it will be if we all go together in the endeavor to bring our children to Christ. If our prayers are united, if our example is one, if our teaching is never contradictory, if both parents are with like earnestness seeking the salvation of their little ones, we may rest assured the promise will be kept.”

I’m not sure where Spurgeon got the idea that Moses’ father was there, but in several later verses (particularly Acts 7 and Hebrews 11) both his mother AND father seemed to be involved in hiding Moses.

I feel like my parents acted in concert in my upbringing. I don’t remember them ever having vastly different ideas about what should be going on with me and my sister.

Eventually, I was able to slip away into my own desires and find my own path–and as Peterson notes, that’s psychologically healthy, even though it's not a guarantee of a good result.

Spurgeon asks an interesting question about parents letting go and allowing their children to move on physically and psychologically–do I have enough faith to let go?

“I trust many here will be asking themselves the question, “Have I that faith which sees the invisible? Have I a faith which exercises an operative power over my entire life? Am I a believer in God, in His dear Son, in His most sacred word? Is that faith real, practical, effective? If not, I can be sure that I am without God and without hope in the world. If He by His grace has given me the faith of His elect whereby I discern Him, recognize Him, act towards Him as the God that is and is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him, then I am accepted in Christ Jesus.”

I know there are parents who do not let go of their children–ever–even into adulthood.

Sometimes, I think I should be more involved in my child’s life–you know, foist my values and my opinions on his life choices–whether he wants them or not.

But then I think of how unwelcome all of that is when my parents try it on me.

We really do have dual parentage stories–our real parents, (or in the case of Moses–our adoptive parents) and the worldly influences on us once our parents have enough faith to let us go our own ways.

And God blesses this process, I think–but it's tricky.

Abraham obeys God and is fixing to kill his son Isaac, and through his total faith, God spares Isaac. But Moses’ parents defy Pharaoh and are rewarded when Moses is spared and grows up to be the leader of the Israelites.

My kid and his fiancee are in Japan right now, following their path and while I might would have reservations about doing that kind of thing–they do not.

I feel like his confidence in exploring the world is in no small part attributable to the decision to place him in the bulrushes of his life when he was ready.

And when I had enough faith to do it.

Lord, may we continue to learn from desperate acts of faith, trusting that You can turn even the most perilous situation into peace and salvation.

Lord, we ask You to look after all children, (including mine and yours even into adulthood), who are in danger. Let them find safety, maybe through unexpected avenues of kindness and compassion.

Amen.