Messy Grace and Your Great Work

Well, I'll be honest. It would have been super easy to bury the second half of Exodus 4 in yesterday's blog post with a bare mention and move on to Exodus 5 today. I almost did. I really wanted to. 

Because there's this really interesting but intensely enigmatic paragraph in Exodus 4:24-26 that I wanted to forget about. It's wedged in between the overwhelmingly glorious "I AM has sent me to you" commission and Moses' meeting with his brother Aaron to begin the greatest act of his life. And the subject matter of this little paragraph is just... difficult.

I so nearly started out this morning's Bible reading with Exodus 5, but my spirit said, Nope. Look back across the page. Keep going, keep going... there it is. Sigh.

Circumcision. It's a cringy topic, not one I like to talk about. It's not one that you'll find me introducing in a typical kick-back conversation at my backyard barbecue on a Thursday. "So, my friend, what's your opinion on circumcision? Any thoughts?" 

At the beginning of this section, Moses leaves the burning bush and heads back to his father-in-law, Jethro, and says, "Hey, I'm heading back to Egypt with your daughter and your grandkids, if it's all right with you."

Jethro's a good guy. He's not like Laban that I wrote about way back when I was blogging through Genesis. He's not going to ride after Moses and try to convince him to come back. He's not going to make him work seven years in exchange for another wife. We'll see Jethro again later. He nods sagely. "Sure, no problem. I wish you well."

So Moses grabs the staff that God had told him he needs to take with him so he can use it to toss on the ground for snake-transfiguration and assorted other miracles. He puts his wife Zipporah and his sons Gershom and Eliezer (no names are listed here; these come from later mentions) on a donkey (the wording got me there. One donkey and at least three people; we don't know their ages or weights, but still... the poor animal). Then they head away from Zipporah's home and toward Egypt.

As they walk, God talks to Moses about his upcoming job. "Don't forget to show Pharaoh the miracles I gave you. Oh, and he's not going to believe you. No worries. I want you to tell him: 'Israel is my firstborn son. Let my son go, so he may worship me. But you refused to let him go, so I will kill your firstborn son.'" 

Anybody remember Jacob and Esau and their struggle over the right of primogeniture? There's a heavy weight placed in Scripture on the firstborn son. It's thematic. Anytime you see a mention of "firstborn," it's pretty likely you'll see some extended meaning placed on the word, as well. It's throughout the pages of the Bible -- from Adam (the firstborn of creation: Genesis 2:7) to Christ (the firstborn over all creation: Colossians 1:15). Israel becomes God's firstborn through the covenant God makes with Abraham in Genesis 15, and remains so. In the New Testament, under the New Covenant, Christ fulfills the requirements of the Old Covenant, and opens it up for all believers.

Anyway, that was possibly a tangent. We have now arrived at the fun little paragraph I mentioned at the beginning.

"At a lodging place along the way, the Lord meets Moses and is about to kill him" (Exodus 4:24). 

Wait... what? But... You've just commissioned him, Lord! 

"But Zipporah takes a flint knife (sharper and more efficient than the new metal knives people have started to make by now), cuts off her son's foreskin, and touches Moses' feet with it. 'Surely you are a bridegroom of blood to me,' she says. So the Lord leaves him alone. (At that time, she said, 'bridegroom of blood,' referring to circumcision" (Exodus 4:25-26).

I wrestled with this. It's hard to understand why this incident is wedged into the middle of an otherwise resplendent half-chapter. Here are four things I picked out about it.

1.) Moses, prophet of God, face-to-face speaker with God, commissioned by God, miracle-worker of God... was a messy sinner. 

He marries Zipporah, who is outside of the pick of ladies the Lord has allowed His people to choose from. God has made it clear to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob that His people are not to marry outside of their nation, and we see some of the results of what happens when we look at Esau, who takes several wives from among ungodly nations. Esau is just an example. Israel's history is riddled with idolatry and wandering from God when they take wives from outside the parameters God sets for them.

We see instances of disobedience in Moses's story later when he refuses to follow God's simple instruction to speak to a rock (if God ever tells you to speak to a rock, do it), and he beats it in a temper instead.

Circumcision is a part of the Abrahamic covenant; it's what keeps the Israelite nation set apart from the nations surrounding it, and the Lord keeps this as a holy ritual. Moses's lack of obedience in circumcising his son -- as a Hebrew -- is inexcusable. It's possible that Zipporah doesn't want him to do it (it would likely have been considered barbaric to her). Whatever the case, Moses lets it slide. 

And "God says: "No. Fix it."

Yesterday, I wrote about a time when I listened to the Lord, and despite feeling foolish and idiotic, I was obedient to His voice. Ironically, this was the same month that I spent in rebellion and disobedience in another area of my life, refusing to listen to some other pretty specific instructions the Lord had given me. Now... did God use me? Yes, He did. Was I living as I should have been? No, I was making some critically stupid choices that summer. 

Redemption and grace is beautiful... and messy. Messy grace. Messy redemption.

2.) God uses this as a metaphor to teach Moses. Unless Moses circumcises his son, God will kill him. He has commissioned Moses to return to Israel, God's 'firstborn son,' (mentioned in the verse just ahead of this paragraph), who has been living in Egypt between 250 to 430 years, and circumcision has fallen by the wayside. They have stopped doing the very thing that sets their nation apart while under their enslavement. 

God says: "No. Fix it." 

3.)  Zipporah calls Moses a "bridegroom of blood." To me, this is a wonderful illustration -- but one that is little known and rarely mentioned (probably because it's so enigmatic) of justification and sacrificial atonement -- a precursor of what Jesus does on the cross centuries later. Throughout the Scriptures, we see blood used for atonement. The first redemptive bloodshed in the Scriptures: Abel's sacrifice being "more pleasing to God" than Cain's -- "And Abel also brought an offering -- fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock. The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering, but on Cain and his offering, He did not look with favor" (Genesis 4:4-5). The last redemptive bloodshed in the Scriptures: When Jesus breathed his last, "at that moment, the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom," forever severing the dividing line between God and mankind, the blood that was spilled once and for all.

The One who spilled that blood is the Bridegroom of the church, Jesus, the firstborn Son of God. Do you see how all of this is starting to come together? Moses, the bridegroom of blood. Jesus, the Bridegroom of Blood. 

4.) Writer Mark Gignilliat calls this paragraph an exercise in humility in his interesting article on this. And I had to laugh. Yes, humility. Who wants to write about circumcision in vivid detail? (I did try to keep it as veiled as possible.) Who wants to write about something that is so difficult to understand the motives behind it? I've had my serving of humble pie this morning. 

I'd love to set this up as the beginning of a conversation. If you want to message me or leave a note in the comments or on Facebook about this, I'd love to discuss it more with you. I want to learn more, too, and pearls of wisdom often come to me through the mouths of other people.

So, after Moses almost dies because of his neglect and disobedience, he gets up the next morning and heads off to start his great work. 

You've got a great work. Yep, you do, believe it or not. Me, too. Maybe we're not going to be called to lead a nation out of slavery. Maybe we're not going to speak to God face to face. Maybe we're not going to go hiking on a rocky mountain and watch God carve ten commandments into two stone tablets. 

But you have a purpose that God prepared in advance, already mapped out, for you to do (Ephesians 2:10). Don't wait until you think you're holy enough or good enough or equipped enough or wealthy enough or ambitious enough or influential enough. When God gives you the "go," you go, and He will take care of the messy job of redemption on the way.