MOSES WAS A BRILLIANT ACCOUNTANT WITH HIS FAITH

THE FAITH OF MOSES

HEBREWS 11:24-28

"By faith Moses refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daugh­ter."—HEBREWS 11:24

"By faith he forsook Egypt."—HEBREWS 11:27

"By faith he kept the Passover."—HEBREWS 11:28

            In our last article we were considering the previous verse in this chapter: "By faith Moses, when he was born, was hid three months by his parents, because they saw he was a goodly child; and they were not afraid of the king's commandment." It is important to remember that what you read in the above passages are the record of the activity of faith also, and an activity of faith resulting from the faith of Amram and Jochebed. All the account of Moses is rooted in the faith of Amram and Jochebed, just two unknown people of the common vulgar slave crowd. They exercised faith when they committed the baby to the river of death. Now all we have read is the result.

            The close connection between the account of Moses and the account of his parents is one that we should keep in mind. This, then, is the record of the activity of faith in the case of a man of whom I am inclined to say Dr. Kyle was justified when he said of Moses: "The greatest man among mere men in the whole history of the world." I rather think that is a justified conclusion.

Once more, and then I expect to dismiss it, whatever is here about Moses is the result of the faith of his father and mother.

            We are all familiar with the wonderful account of the life of Moses lasting 120 years, and those years clearly divided into three forties. Just recall the facts as I give you not sentences, but phrases. Forty years in the court as prince. Forty years in the wilderness as shep­herd. Forty years in the wilderness as leader of a nation.

            Now the writer of this letter describes the faith of this man. As I am pondering it through the days I get more and more amazed. I am amazed at something for our next article, and more amazed still at something that follows that. But the amazing thing, in dealing with Moses, is that the writer has taken the illustrations of his faith from two points of crisis in his life; one, his departure from the court, and two, illustrating the faith of a nation: and there he says two things about that. There is nothing said about his faith in the first forty years, not that he was without it.             All his subsequent actions prove that his faith in God was living long be­fore this great choice was made, and indeed, operated in the making of the choice. But this writer does not refer to anything of the past, but he tells that by faith he refused, by faith he forsook, by faith he kept—may I change my word? Some expositors do not agree with the change, "by faith he instituted the Passover." Two great crises in his life, illustrating the activity of his faith.

            Therefore we have three things to look at. First of all the great renunciation made by faith. Second, the fact of the Exodus as the result of faith; and third, the method of that fact, the institution and observance of the Passover.

            The first of these, of course, is in some senses the most arresting, because the writer is especially careful to tell us exactly what happened, and I am going to read not merely my first verse as a text, but a little more.

"By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to be evil entreated with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; accounting the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt."

            Let us watch the mental process, because that is what this writer has done. He has revealed a mental process, and the final fact is first stated—"he refused." But on what basis did he refuse? "Choosing." How did he come to choose? "Accounting." The psychology of the thing is all there. The writer is watching these things and gathering up into clear, sharp, crystal sentences the account of the process through which Moses passed. How long the process took we do not know, but we have the three things. The final, the ulti­mate thing is, he "refused." That which preceded the refusal was the choice—"choosing." And the choice was made as the result of another process, perhaps longer than either of them, because the final would be immediate, complete. He refused, and the choosing would not take long. It was deliberate, but there was something preceding it—"accounting." We see the mind process.

            Suppose we take that mind process in the other order from which the writer of the letter to the Hebrews has given it to us, and try to see what was happening in the case of Moses. "Accounting," and the word merely means balancing things, in order to come to a decision of some sort, putting this by the side of that, and weighing the evidence on both sides: "accounting." He may have been a long time doing that. He left Egypt when he was forty, and you see some evidence of what he had been thinking in the account you find in the Old Testament. But here the writer sums it all up, "accounting." He had been looking at things, looking at Egypt, looking at these people who were by this time in slavery, among them his own father and mother, the mother who had nursed him; and he had been accounting.

            Well, what did he see? Two things. First, I am not putting them in the order of statement, but backwards; first "the treasures of Egypt." I am not going to in­dulge in any description of what those treasures were. Suffice it to say we know well, and better than our fa­thers did, how marvelous were the treasures of Egypt. They had a remarkable civilization. They had untold wealth. The splendor of its court was magnificent. The treasures in Egypt. He looked at it all, the wealth and the power—listen—of the oppressors. Egypt was oppressing the Hebrew people with great cruelty, for there had arisen another Pharaoh, and from that time things turned out hardly for them, and now they were being treated with brutal cruelty as the boys born were flung into the Nile, except this boy. This boy was saved. There may have been others; I do not know. But this boy was saved, and Moses, in this court of splendor, learning, and refinement, looked round, and saw the wealth and power.

            Then he looked at the other side, and he saw the op­pressed, these people, bowing the neck, under the yoke of abject slavery and poverty, which had become abso­lutely brutal in every way. He saw these people, the oppressed as over against the oppressors on the one side, the oppressors with great wealth and power.

            Well, what about these people? Great poverty and no power. No, that is not all he saw. He saw the re­proach of the Messiah—I have resolutely changed the word from its Greek form Christ, not that it is inac­curate, to the Hebrew form, Messiah. He found these enslaved people had a hope of a Messiah, of a Deliv­erer; and in spite of all the oppression, and in spite of all the brutality, that hope was still there, and that hope was bringing all of them into a place of even deeper reproach. Not merely the brutality of the slave-mas­ters, but the rude laughter of them at these stupid people indulging and cherishing, and living upon a hope; the reproach of it. How they laughed at them. And Moses looked at it all, accounting, accounting, put­ting one against the other, thinking things through; and coming to a decision on the basis of his accounting that the reproach of the Messiah among the oppressed peo­ple was greater than all the riches and power of Egypt; and on this basis he refused.

            Yes, but before the definite refusal which broke with Egypt, on the basis of the accounting, there was a choosing. Follow the process through. Accounting, accounting, watching, thinking, pondering, accounting all the wealth, all the power of the oppressing Egypt; all the poverty and all the weakness, and yet this un­dimmed and undying hope burning in their hearts, of a Messiah.

            Accounting, and there came a moment when, on the basis of this accounting, he came to a decision—choos­ing, choosing, literally, taking for himself a definite decision and position; balancing the long issues toward which that hope was pointing with the present affliction under which they were suffering; balancing between those two, and coming to the conclusion that he had rather, and indeed would, definitely choose to share the affliction resulting from such a hope, than enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season.

            I love that passage because it is so true to life, "pleasures of sin." There are such today. What a stupid thing it is that some people say that there is no pleasure in sin. Of course there are pleasures in sin. Dr. Gordon, of Boston, wrote a hymn, "My Jesus, I Love Thee." In many books one of the verses reads: "My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine, For Thee all the follies of sin I resign."

            I wonder what made some good dear pious soul alter that. Dr. Gordon did not write that. He wrote: "For Thee all the pleasures of sin I resign."

            I say some pious soul. There are such about. Some­one thought that it would be wrong to sing about the pleasures of sin. But the writer of this letter knew. Oh, Moses saw, saw the pleasures, the pleasures of sin, saw them all in Egypt; but did you notice the little qualifying phrase, "for a season"? We can write that phrase over all the pleasures of sin that are luring us today. Yes, they are there, "pleasures of sin for a season"; and then midnight darkness and despair.

            So Moses chose. He made his choice, and he made a definite decision to share with the people suffering affliction, the joy of the long result, burning within them the hope of a Messiah, rather than to take all that Egypt could offer in the way of pleasure, with its limi­tation, "for a season." So the action in the mind, ac­counting. It may have taken a good while. Choosing, that did not take long, at least it was definite; but by faith, having in view the recompense of the reward he chose.

            What was the issue, the ultimate? He refused. "He refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter." He refused all the possibilities created for him on the level of the world, and the power under which he had been nurtured for forty years in the goodness of the heart of a woman. But he saw through it all. He saw clearly that it was fading, that it was for a season, that it was doomed; and he saw the hope of the Messiah bringing reproach, men laughing at it; and yet burning like a beacon; and he said: No, I will not be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter. In other words, to go back to our early consideration and the definition of faith, that was confidence in things hoped for, and conviction of things unseen, and so by faith he refused.

            Then we take the next. By faith he forsook. He carried out the decision of his faith actually. Now commentators are not quite agreed as to what the writer was referring at this point when he said: "By faith he forsook Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king."

            They say it was the hour when he first left Egypt, after he had killed the Egyptian, and then tried to deliver his compatriots who would not be delivered; and he went into the desert. Some say it refers to that. Oth­ers say it refers to the Exodus itself when he and the people forsook Egypt. So far as I am concerned I think it includes both. I think the statement refers to his first leaving, and forty years afterwards.

            Why did he leave at first? There we are face to face with the revelation of the underlying thought of Moses. He went out, and saw an Egyptian brutally treating a Hebrew. Well, why interfere with them? Why take any notice of it? It was a commonplace matter. It was going on everywhere. Yet when he came across a concrete instance, he took the side of the Hebrew. Why did he? Why not let the Egyptian bruise him and ill-treat him? He belonged to the court. Why did he not let things go on? Can you not imagine it; the stories Jochebed had told him in those baby years had taken root in his life: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, then the gap; but he heard about them all, and he knew that these oppressed people had got this strange hope of a Messiah. The reproach of Him was upon them, and he stood for these people. He of the court stood for them a revelation of his faith. He was unable to do what he wanted to do. His heart dictated that he should do something to help his people, but quite evidently he stirred up trouble. When he found two of his brethren quarrelling and he tried to mediate be­tween them, they said: What is it to do with you? Who made you a prince and judge? Are you going to do with us what you did to the Egyptian yesterday? So it was known, and he fled. He need not have gone. He could quite easily as a member of the court, the son of Pharaoh's daughter, make a statement which would cause him to be delivered from all trouble. But no. He was face to face with his own disability, and yet he was afraid of the wrath of the Pharaoh if it was found out, and his first flight was in fear, but it was also in faith.

            Then followed forty years, to me always a very fas­cinating account for thought and meditation. I hope there never creeps into your thought or accent pity for Moses that he had to give up the splendor of the court and spend forty years as a nomad, taking care of sheep under the shadow of the mountains and in the wilder­ness. I hope you do not pity him. It was a great life. It was a life of discipline and meditation. It was a life of training, all unknown to him, a method of prepara­tion for what in the economy and purpose of God lay before him. No, do not pity him. Believe me, there is far more splendor and majesty under the mountains of God, and in the wilderness, which speaks of His power, than in all the courts of kings. Forty years.

            And then the surprising morning, when about his ordinary calling he saw a bush burning, flaming, blaz­ing, and drew near; and wonder of wonders, the bush burned with fire but it was not being destroyed. The lambent flames around it played, and it flourished un­consumed in fire. The call came to him, the call of God, to become the leader of the people, still oppressed, and more cruelly oppressed than ever in the land of Egypt, to be the one who should lead them out. I thank God for all these stories. The hesitation of Moses is fear, "Who am I?" and the answer of God, full of gentle satire, "Who made thy mouth?" The words I speak thou shalt speak—and so that com­munion with God.

            After the hesitations had all ended as the result of that communion, he went down, and again you know the account. I need not tell it. He gathered the people. He led them out. He forsook Egypt, taking with him all those oppressed people into the wilderness. What was the secret? He tells you. "He endured, as seeing him who is invisible." Oh, the glorious paradoxes and contradictions of the life of faith. There is not a scientist in America, Europe, Africa or in the world, who will not smile at it as a mere statement, "seeing the invisible." But the humblest child of God, youth, woman, old man or woman, those in the heyday of life but know that he saw God. He had seen Him in the burning bush. He had held communion and had inter­preted lessons of revelation as he had moved through the wilderness with his sheep. He saw God, and now he is not afraid. Fear has been banished because he has had the vision of God, and so came the great exodus.

            Then the last phrase, which to me is very significant. By faith he kept, and the marginal reading of the Re­vised Version is "instituted." I repeat, some ex­positors object to it, and yet I think it is a true interpretation of the Hebrew word. He instituted the Passover, he kept it. Yes, he did; but it was an insti­tution, and a very arresting and remarkable one. There, undoubtedly, the reference was to the keeping of the Passover in Egypt, and that was an act of obedient faith. The command had gone out from him to all these people for the taking of the lamb. Look at Moses uttering the command. Look at the people. They did what they were told, and the institution of the Passover was an act of faith. It was instituted and observed before they were delivered. It was an act of faith, and yet it became a perpetual thing. I quote from Moses who said: "It is a night to be much ob­served unto the Lord, to be much observed of all the children of Israel throughout their generations." By faith he instituted that Passover feast which was to be through all their history the symbol of the fundamental fact in that history, that they were a people redeemed, ransomed, released from bondage. Everything was rooted there. All those of you who love your Bible watch it as you read your prophets and psalms and history—the perpetual reference to the fact that their whole history was rooted in that fact of redemption. By faith he instituted that feast as a perpetual symbol: by faith.

            In contemplating the wonders of this man's faith let us never lose sight—forgive me for repeating it—of Amram and Jochebed. We do not know what we are doing when by faith we are dealing with our children. We may not have to commit our children to some ark of bulrushes; but we want to do something for them in a world like this, and do not look on it as unimportant. We do not know what is coming out of it.

            As we take the whole account and have this wonderful recognition of faith we see a man exercising faith, who knew what it was to hesitate, knew what it was to trem­ble, knew what  it was to make mistakes. I am taking the history without dealing with the details. As a mat­ter of fact, at the end he was excluded from the land toward which he had been looking for forty years of wandering in the wilderness. He was excluded. And if you ask why he was excluded, one of the psalms answers you. I confess it is an amazing statement. It is one that gives one pause. The Psalmist says he was excluded because "he spake unadvisedly with his lips." (Psa. 106:33) We know when he did that, when he went to the people, after God had commissioned him to give them water, he was angry. He said: Must I bring water out of this rock? And he smote the rock. He spoke unadvisedly with his lips. He obeyed God, but he misrepresented the nature, the character, the spirit of God. And be­cause of that he was excluded from the Promised Land.

            Is that all? No. We will find the sequel in the New Testament. There came a time when Moses and Elijah stood with Jesus on the mount of transfigured glory and talked with Him about His exodus, the exodus, that is the word, the Greek word, the exodos, which is merely another form of our word exodus, that He was about to accomplish. Do not read merely the death He was to die. It was the breaking of bonds, the loosening of the prisoners, a marching of ransomed souls; and Jesus was going to the Cross to accomplish it. And Moses came there with Elijah, the law-giver and the reformer; and they talked together. Moses stood

. . . With glory wrapped around

On the hills he never trod;

And spoke of the strife that won our life

With the incarnate Son of God."

            And so faith had its ultimate reward and vindication, long, long after, for in the economy of God things are not measured by the almanacs of this earth; and time cycles and centuries run their course; and some day out yonder and beyond, the full meaning of our act and life of faith will become evident, as in the case of Moses.