Against Inescapable Odds

Following Joseph, the Israelites were fruitful and multiplied greatly in Egypt.

Over the past few weeks we've followed the stories of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph. In Genesis 50:22-26 (NIV) we're told, "Joseph stayed in Egypt, along with all his father's family. He lived a hundred and ten years and saw the third generation of Ephraim's children. Also the children of Makir son of Manasseh were placed at birth on Joseph's knees. Then Joseph said to his brothers, 'I am about to die. But God will surely come to your aid and take you up out of this land to the land he promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.' And Joseph made the sons of Israel swear an oath and said, 'God will surely come to your aid, and then you must carry my bones up from this place.' So Joseph died at the age of a hundred and ten. And after they embalmed him, he was placed in a coffin in Egypt."

Joseph lived to become a great-grandpa! Joseph had raised up three generations of children in Egypt. Like our great-grandparents, Joseph lived in a different time. He understood that prosperity has a way of making us comfortable. And comfort has a way of making us forget our heritage, history, and story. Even our faith can be forgotten. Before Joseph died, he made all his brothers and children swear an oath to never forget. We do the same thing. Remember 911. Remember Pearl Harbor. Remember the Alamo. Those who forget history are destined to repeat it.

In Exodus 1:6-7 (NIV) we're told, "...Joseph and all his brothers and all that generation died, but the Israelites were fruitful and multiplied greatly and became exceedingly numerous..."

Amnesia gives rise to fear.

In Exodus 1 a new king, who is ignorant of Egypt's history, rises to power. He didn't know how God providentially saved the world from famine through Joseph. This new king was powerful, with all his horses, chariots, armor, and modern weapons. And this new king enjoyed extraordinary wealth, due to the Joseph's administrative acumen and God's providence.

But Exodus 1:7 (NIV) reveals a critical detail. "...but the Israelites were fruitful and multiplied greatly and became exceedingly numerous, so that the land was filled with them." Did you catch it? Them. What an interesting word. It's like the word used in the mega-series "Lost" to describe the strangers who inhabit the mysterious island, the others.

The others is what Lara calls me and our two male Schnauzers. We'll be upstairs watching television, and Lara and our girl Schnauzer Maddie will be downstairs on the couch. The moment us boys start making our way downstairs, Maddie throws a fit and starts barking and jumping at us, as if we're the others. Never mind that a few hours earlier when we were in the kitchen and Jon was handing out food scraps, we were all one big happy family. And that's how it is. Amnesia gives rise to fear. We forget that the others are part of us.

Fear erects walls.

Once amnesia gives rise to fear, the language of insider and outsider develops. This is what we see in Exodus 1:7. Never ignore language. Choose your words wisely. Language is never neutral. Like Maddie's growl, it reflects our prejudices and fears, and our animosity toward others. Insiders, the Egyptians, are those who have power, position, affluence, security, or perhaps a certain ethnicity. Outsiders, the Israelites, are those who lack power, position, affluence, or some other attribute. Most often, the outsider is deemed dirty, filthy, or offensive. And our language and customs reflect this.

This is certainly the case in Egypt, where in Genesis 43:32 (NIV) we read how, "They served him (Joseph) by himself, his brothers by themselves, and the Egyptians who ate with Joseph by themselves, because Egyptians could not eat with Hebrews for that is detestable to the Egyptians." In Genesis 46:33-34 (NIV) Joseph coached his brothers, "When Pharaoh calls you in and asks, 'What is your occupation?' you should answer, 'Your servants have tended livestock from our boyhood on, just as our fathers did.' Then you will be allowed to settle in the region of Goshen, for all shepherds are detestable to the Egyptians."

Insiders initially take a posture of kindness, generosity, and curiosity toward outsiders. This was exactly the case in Egypt as they welcomed Joseph's family. But as the outsiders grew in number, they overwhelmed the ranks of the insiders. We see this in our modern era. The United States has always been known as the melting pot. This sounds like a romantic idea, but in reality, it's difficult to assimilate outsiders. The others come with different languages, belief systems, customs, values, and social norms. The needs of others can be overwhelming, even destabilizing to the economy.

When Maddie growls at her brothers and dad, she feels threatened. She believes that we're encroaching on her way of life. She believes that there aren't enough love, treats, and affection to go around, or that someone's going to take her comfy spot on the coach. With fear comes this sense that the success of the other is an existential threat to my existence. "So you stay over there, and I'll stay over here, or I'll snap at you." But it's more than that.

Fear eclipses reason.

I'm not alarmed by the proliferation of firearms in our culture. I'm alarmed by the fear that's taking root in our culture. Our fears can make us inconsolable, unreasonable, and even paranoid. And are fears make us vulnerable. There are those who would stoke our fears for political, economic, or social gain.

Notice in Exodus 1:9-10 (NIV) how Pharaoh becomes an alarmist voice. He says to his people, "...the Israelites have become much too numerous for us. Come, we must deal shrewdly with them or they will become even more numerous and, if war breaks out, will join our enemies, fight against us and leave the country."

The alarmist, and we're surrounded by many, are all too ready to stoke our fears. "What if? And what if..." And the alarmist is all too eager to issue a call to arms. "We must. And we must." His "what if" is a pretext to his tyranny over your life.

Never forget that fear is an emotion. The more fearful a person becomes, the less rationale and reasonable he can be. The more fearful he becomes, the more erratic his behavior and speech becomes, and his actions become more desperate and overreaching. People are most vulnerable when they're fearful. They are most prone to suggestion when they are fearful. This is why Roosevelt said, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself." No tyrant has ever arisen in history who didn't first stoke the fears of the masses. We're not in control when we're fearful. Instead, we're scary, we're erratic, reckless, foolish, and easily manipulated.

Fear engenders callousness.

Exodus 1:11-14 (NIV) describes, "So they (Egpytians) put slave masters over them to oppress them with forced labor, and they built Pithom and Rameses as stone cities for Pharaoh. But the more they were oppressed, the more they multiplied and spread; so the Egyptians came to dread (fear) the Israelites and worked them ruthlessly. They made their lives bitter with hard labor in brick and mortar and with all kinds of work in the fields; in all their hard labor the Egyptians used them ruthlessly."

The more fearful we become, the more cruel, callous, and punitive we become. Here the Egyptians treated the Hebrews as less than equal, less than themselves. The Hebrews were not entitled to the same hopes, dreams, and aspirations as the insiders. They had no claim on the land or its abundance. They were viewed as broken, damaged, undeserving, ravenous, flawed, evil, demon-possessed, mentally ill, monsters, heathen, pagans, aliens, space creatures, and dogs. They were treated as less than human. "Go somewhere else. But if you stay, we'll make it miserable for you."

Fear excuses violence.

Inevitably, fear gives rise and becomes a rationalization for violence. In Exodus 1:16 (NIV) Pharaoh commands the Hebrew midwives, "When you help the Hebrew women in childbirth and observe them on the delivery stool, if it is a boy kill him; but if it is a girl, let her live."

Of course the Hebrew midwives wanted no part of it. Exodus 1:17-19 (NIV) says, "The midwives, however, feared God and did not do what the king of Egypt had told them to do; they let the boys live. Then the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and asked them, 'Why have you let the boys live?' The midwives answered Pharaoh, 'Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.' "

In Exodus 1:22 (NIV) Pharaoh stepped up the pressure by giving the decree, "Every boy that is born you must throw into the Nile, but let every girl live."

This Sunday is considered Right to Life Sunday. I have shared this story of Pharaoh so that we can begin to understand how we've become such a murderous nation. At the core of violence is this impulse that my right to life is more divinely ordained than your right to life. Now this attitude certainly afflicts the unborn. The justification for abortion is that the other, the fetus, is less human that I. This fetus is certainly not a child, but this fetus is an existential threat to my future. Therefore its annihilation is justified.

This Sunday we're forced to ask what it says about American culture that a mother can come to see her own unborn child as the other instead of as her own flesh and blood. To me, this is the greatest violence, and the height of human arrogance. And it's not unlike what we see in Exodus 1-2 except that Pharaoh didn't kill his own flesh and blood.

The attitude of fear spills over into all of life.

But this attitude doesn't just afflict the unborn. It spills over into all of life. I said earlier that I'm not bothered by guns. I believe that we have a right to bear arms. Over the weekend I attended the gun show, but not because I intend to buy a gun. I met a lot of good people there. To be honest, I've never felt a compulsion to go out and buy a gun, but I believe it's our right to do so if we so choose.

What bothers me is the attitudes I hear expressed. It's that instead of taking a redemptive posture toward others, we're building walls. We're allowing the alarmists to stoke our fears and incite our hostility. Do we really want to be ruled by fear? Is there really no alternative other than to draw battle lines and take up arms?

It's disgusting! It's not disgusting that a person would own a gun, or even an assault rifle, but it's disgusting when I hear the contempt that Christians are expressing toward the illegal alien. Toward the gay, lesbian, or transgendered person. Toward the mentally ill. The felon. The whites, the blacks,
the Hispanics, the Muslims, the 5 percent, the 95 percent, the gang banger, the dependent, the bottom feeder, the taker, the minority, the community organizer, the union thug, the dirt-bags, the deadbeat dads, the tea-party, the socialists, the communists, the elitists, or the liberals. Take your pick!

Do we have amnesia? Do we forget the walls that were torn down or the blood that was shed in order to tear down the dividing wall of hostility among men for all eternity? Are we so naïve to think that our language and our dehumanizing labels are inconsequential? Do we really think that somehow the cause of Christ is advanced by our callousness, by cruelty, by playing God, by pulling a trigger, or by inciting violence? Do we think that our violence, this desire to kill, this blood-thirst, serves a redemptive purpose? Do we believe that the evil will end once we take the life of the other, the outsider, or the one posing an existential threat to your existence?

In Exodus 2:12-15 (NIV) in a fit of righteous rage, Moses happens upon an Egyptian abusing one of his fellow Hebrews. "Glancing this way and that and seeing no one, he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. The next day he went out and saw two Hebrews fighting. He asked the one in the wrong, 'Why are you hitting your fellow Hebrew?' The man said, 'Who made you ruler and judge over us? Are you thinking of killing me as you killed the Egyptian? Then Moses was afraid and thought, 'What I did must have become known.' When Pharaoh heard of this, he tried to kill Moses, but Moses fled..."

Don't you see how fear begets greater fear, and violence begets greater violence? It's a vicious, all-consuming cycle that escalates with one atrocity after another. Allow me to suggest a different approach.

There's a different approach than violence.

First, see the others' humanity. In Exodus 1:15-21 the Hebrew midwives wouldn't obey Pharaoh, and there was an obvious reason why. They were in the delivery room. They knew the mommies and daddies. They delivered, held, and cared for the babies. They saw the hope, the dreams, the aspirations, and the agony. There is something to be said for drawing near to the other. Because in the presence of the other, there really isn't an other. There is just us.

Second, know the other's story. It's pretty extraordinary. In Exodus 2:7-10 Pharaoh's own daughter fully knows the plight of the Hebrew babies. She knows exactly what they're going through. She understands why they're defying her father's decree, and why one mother would risk her son's life by building a raft and floating her son downstream into the midst of Egyptian royalty. Story humanizes the other. Story enabled Pharoah's daughter to transcend her fears. It enabled her to see and be moved by the tears of the baby Moses.

Third, join the other's story. In Exodus 2:7-10 Pharaoh's daughter rescued Moses from the river. She sent for the baby's mother, and invited the mother to raise the child for her. Talk about divine providence! It's one thing to see the other, but it's another thing to understand their story. It's still another thing to become part of their story, and be used of God to redeem their story.

It's interesting that God could have allowed the dividing wall of hostility to remain. But no, what did he do? God saw us. He heard our cries. He saw our tears. He tore down the dividing wall of hostlity. The living word of God because flesh in the form of Jesus Christ. The God of the universe drew near to us and he walked among us. He took upon himself all of our sorrows and pain.

But he did even more. He took our punishment for our sin. He sent his one and only Son to us, knowing full well what we would do to him. He sent his Son as a sacrifice in order that he might have mercy on us all. Instead of calling us enemies, he made us his brothers, sisters, and children. Instead of punishing us according to our folly or sins, he forgave us. Instead of holding us captive, he set us free from fear. Let's not have amnesia. Let's remember!