Mummy

Mummy

About this time, a man and woman from the tribe of Levi got married. The woman became pregnant and gave birth to a son. She saw that he was a special baby and kept him hidden for three months. But when she could no longer hide him, she got a basket made of papyrus reeds and waterproofed it with tar and pitch. She put the baby in the basket and laid it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile River. The baby’s sister then stood at a distance, watching to see what would happen to him.

Soon Pharaoh’s daughter came down to bathe in the river, and her attendants walked along the riverbank. When the princess saw the basket among the reeds, she sent her maid to get it for her. When the princess opened it, she saw the baby. The little boy was crying, and she felt sorry for him. “This must be one of the Hebrew children,” she said. (Exodus 2:1-6)

Mother’s Day can be bittersweet. For some, there’s no one in the world like their mom. For others, motherhood was an accident, a biological impossibility, or their moms just weren’t that nice. Regardless, becoming a mother is a lot easier than being one. Because there’s days when a mom would actually like to eat the entire candy bar, and drink a Coke without the floaties in it; or days when they’d like their kitchen utensils to stay in the kitchen and not end up in the sandbox. But then there’s days when asking, “Why me?” that moms get their answer from a little voice that says, “Because I love you best.” Some of the greatest people in history will tell you how important their mothers were. George Washington, for example, declared: “All I am I owe to my mother.” Moses could very well have said the same.

Moses became the kind of man he was because of the type of mother he had. In fact, who he was was very much determined by the type of mothers he had, because God gave Moses two of them. Both of the women who fulfilled the maternal role in the life of Moses made certain choices that impacted the course of Moses’ life, and those choices made Moses the man he became. The old saying, “The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world,” was absolutely true in the life of Moses. And the choices made by Moses’ mothers teach us a lot about love, about life and about the legacy we leave our children.

Moses was born into a culture of death. According to Pharaoh’s decree, Moses should have been drowned as soon as he was born. So, imagine Jochebed’s pregnancy. Imagine the waiting, the expectancy, the wondering whether the baby would be a girl or a boy. There were no ultrasounds then, so she and her husband, Amram, simply had to wait until Jochebed gave birth. And when she did, she delivered a baby boy. In his mother’s eyes, he was special, and she refused to kill him. She chose to disobey the command of Pharaoh and allow her son to live. (Heb. 11:23) But how do you hide a baby and spare the family’s life?

Neighbors knew that Jochebed was expecting. So, how would she explain the fact that she wasn’t pregnant any longer? How could she keep the existence of a growing, rambunctious baby boy from getting out? And although her faith in God would not allow her to murder her son, her faith in God was also so great that she was willing to trust God with his life. But even though she couldn’t kill her child, she knew she couldn’t secure his life, either. So, she purchased a little basket of reeds, applied some pitch for waterproofing, and put her baby boy into the basket, setting him adrift on the providence of God.

Meanwhile, the daughter of Pharaoh had come down to the river to bathe. Spotting the little ark, she sent her maid to investigate. When the maid brought the basket to her, she looked inside and found a crying baby boy. His circumcision branded him a Hebrew, and immediately the princess understood that his mother had chosen life over death for this child. And in that instant, the princess had a choice to make as well. She could obey her father’s decree and have the child killed. After all, it would’ve been easy. All she would have had to do was instruct one of her servants to tip the ark over and the child would have drowned. But she didn’t. This pagan princess, born into a culture of death, chose life for a child who should have been dead.

Tragically, our culture’s not very different. We live in a world where the most dangerous place for an unborn child is the very place where it should be the safest: a mother’s womb. We live in a world where not every pregnant woman wants to be a mother. We live in a culture that allows a woman to take away the life of their unborn child. Death may have been easier for Moses, but both of his moms chose to give him life.

As the story unfolds, we begin to understand that these moms loved Moses more than they loved themselves. His birth mother risked her life to save his life, and his adoptive, Egyptian mother risked the wrath of her father, the Pharaoh, to save his life again. Why? Because they loved Moses. Their love for this child motivated them to action. Jochebed loved Moses because he was her baby boy. Her body had given him life, and had nourished him as he grew. And it was her love for Moses that allowed him to fulfill the greatest earthly destiny ever designed for any Hebrew since. She risked everything to save him, and 80 years later, by God’s grace, Moses saved his people from Egyptian slavery by destroying the most powerful nation on the planet without lifting a sword, or shooting an arrow. Jochebed’s love allowed Moses to fulfill his God-given destiny to be the savior of his people.

The princess loved Moses, too. Because God had put it in her heart. Otherwise, what possible motivation could the pagan daughter of the Pharaoh have had to adopt the son of a Hebrew slave? Her heart was moved by the plight of a helpless child, and she claimed him as her own. She even named him Moses – a reference to being “drawn out” of the Nile River. And the name proved providential. Because one day Moses would draw his people out of the slavery of his adoptive nation. Ironic, too, that the Pharaoh would be paying for the raising of a child whom he had earlier ordered to be murdered, and who would – one day – be the ruination of the Pharaoh’s empire.

God put love for this child into the hearts of two very different women. God spared Moses from certain death because he had a plan for his life. And God loved Moses, too. He was “… a beautiful child in God’s eyes.” (Acts 7:20) And so God worked in the hearts and lives of others to cause them to love Moses.

Many years ago, a young mother was making her way across the hills of South Wales, carrying her tiny baby in her arms. On the journey, she and her baby were overtaken by a blinding blizzard. Tragically, the young mother never reached her destination. Days later, when the blizzard had subsided, a search and rescue team eventually found her slumped beneath a mound of snow. The rescuers also discovered that, before her death, the young mother had taken off all of her outer clothing and wrapped them around her baby. And when they unwrapped the child, much to their surprise, they discovered that the baby was alive and well. Years later that child, David Lloyd George, would become prime minister of Great Britain, and one of England’s greatest statesmen. All because of a mother’s sacrificial love.

As we read on, it’s easy to see that both of these mothers also invested themselves in Moses’ life. His Egyptian mother gave him the best that Egypt had to offer. (Acts 7:22) The ancient Jewish historian, Josephus, wrote that by virtue of being adopted into the Pharaoh’s family, Moses was in line to succeed to the throne. As a result, he was trained as a prince in Egypt, and he was trained for leadership. That training, of course, would serve him well in the future that God had in store for him.

But his birth mother gave him something his adoptive mother could not: an introduction to the God of Israel while she weaned Moses for the Pharaoh’s daughter – a period generally ranging from 18 months to 5 years. So it was during this time that Jochebed told her son about the true and living God. She warned him about the false gods and religions of Egypt. She told him the stories of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. She told him why God’s people were in bondage in Egypt. And she told him about the promises of God that, one day, His people would be delivered from their bondage. With time, these lessons took root.

“It was by faith that Moses, when he grew up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. He chose to share the oppression of God’s people instead of enjoying the fleeting pleasures of sin. He thought it was better to suffer for the sake of Christ than to own the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking ahead to his great reward. It was by faith that Moses left the land of Egypt, not fearing the king’s anger. He kept right on going because he kept his eyes on the one who is invisible.” (Heb. 11:24-27) And by the time Moses was 40, he understood that God would use him to deliver the people of Israel from slavery. “One day when Moses was forty years old, he decided to visit his relatives, the people of Israel. He saw an Egyptian mistreating an Israelite. So Moses came to the man’s defense and avenged him, killing the Egyptian. Moses assumed his fellow Israelites would realize that God had sent him to rescue them, but they didn’t.” (Acts 7:23-25)

In other words, the lessons Moses learned from his mother set the very course for his life. And the lessons your children learn from you will do the same. For instance, if your daughter leaves home without being able to balance her checkbook, but has a clear understanding of God and his Son, she’s way ahead of her smartest peers. Or, if your son leaves home and doesn’t know how to play baseball, conjugate a verb, solve long division problems, or multiply fractions, but knows that the Bible is God’s Word, that Jesus is the friend of sinners and that God loves him, he’s way better off than his peers who learned nothing about God from their parents.

As parents, we want our children, and their children, to have more than we did. We want them to have a better education, a better home, a better life. And that’s good. Solomon said as much: “Good people leave an inheritance for their children’s children.” (Prov. 13:22) But their inheritance should include the wealth that only a deep, personal and abiding relationship with God can bring. That begins with prayer, for and with them, and reading the Word and explaining it to them as they study for themselves. We should give them Jesus, and him crucified and resurrected – the hope of their, and the world’s salvation.

So moms, thinking back on it, why did you love your newborn? Because for months the baby was a pain, made you break out in pimples and waddle like a duck. You craved sardines and crackers, and you threw up in the morning. He punched you in the stomach. She occupied space that wasn’t hers, and ate food she didn’t fix. And then, no sooner out of the womb, he started crying – the room was too cold; the blanket too rough; the nurse too mean. And who did she want? Mom.

And in this process you had become a virtual barbarian – you screamed, you swore, you bit bullets and tore the sheets. Your back ached, your head pounded and you were drenched in sweat. You should have been angry, but you weren’t. Because on your face was that for-longer-than-forever love. She’d done nothing for you, yet all you could talk about were her good looks and bright future. He woke you up every night for the next six weeks, but that didn’t matter because you were about him. And you still are. But why?

Because the baby is you – your blood; your flesh; your sinew and spine; your hope; your legacy. So, it didn’t bother you that the baby gave you nothing in return because you knew that a newborn is helpless and weak. And you also knew that babies don’t ask to come into this world.

And God knows we didn’t either. We are his idea. We are his – his face; his eyes; his hands; his touch. Look deeply into the face of a child and you’ll see his likeness. Granted, some may appear to be distant relatives, but they’re not. God has no cousins, only children. We are, incredibly, the body of Christ. And though we may not always act like our Father, there’s no greater truth than this: we are his – unalterably. He loves us - undyingly. There’s nothing that can separate us from the love of Christ. (Rom. 8:38-39) Nothing.

A teacher asked a student in her class one day, “Suppose your mother baked a pie and there were five of you – your parents and three children. What part of the pie would you get?” “A fourth,” replied the boy. “I'm afraid you don't know your fractions,” said the teacher. “Remember, there are five of you.” “Yes, teacher,” said the boy, “but you don't know my mother. Mother would say she didn't want any pie.”

That’s a mother’s love. And that’s God’s love, too. And to demonstrate his love, he gave his one and only Son so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16) Maybe that’s why Jesus, in lamenting over Jerusalem’s abandonment of the faith, would use a mother’s imagery just days before his crucifixion when he cried, “Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let me.” (Matt. 23:27)

Mummy, mommy, mum or mom; there’s nothing quite like a mother’s love.

Happy Mother’s Day,

Randy