Exodus (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible)

Thomas Joseph White, Reno, R. R., Jenson, Robert, Wilken, Robert, Radner, Ephriam, Root, Michael, Sumner, George, R. R. Reno, Robert Jenson, Robert Wilken, Ephriam Radner, Michael Root, George Sumner

• Publisher: Brazos Press
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN: 9781587433467
• eBook ISBN: 9781493402588
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Biblical Commentary

Explore how the roots of the ancient Christian tradition inform and shape faithfulness today

The Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible enlists leading theologians to read and interpret scripture creedally for the twenty-first century, just as the church fathers, the Reformers, and other orthodox Christians did for their times and places.

A rich resource for preachers, teachers, students, and study groups, the BTC provides guidance for reading the Bible under the rule of faith. Each volume in the series includes

● a Christological focus and framework grounded in the Nicene Creed
● connections between biblical interpretation and today's social issues
● applications for contemporary faith and life
● devotional depth for meditation and reflection
● insights from literature, philosophy, culture, and more

Exodus recounts the origins of ancient Israel, but it is also a book of religious symbols. How should it be interpreted, especially in light of modern historical-critical study? In this addition to an acclaimed series, a respected scholar offers a theological reading of Exodus that highlights Aquinas's interpretations of the text.

Ultimately the Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible demonstrates the continuing intellectual and practical viability of theological interpretation of the Bible.

1
Deliverance from Egypt

Exodus 1–12

Pharaoh, Genocide, and Universal Moral Weakness (Exod. 1)

1:1–7 “These are the names of the sons of Israel who went down into Egypt with Jacob” (1:1).

The book of Exodus seeks to portray how the people of Israel became God’s own chosen people through their deliverance from Egypt and by a divinely instituted covenant articulated to them through a prophet. Consequently, the opening passage of the book unites the narrative of the people of Israel in Egypt with the prehistory of the patriarchs. It is from this particular people—descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—that God will draw forth his elect.

In addition, the book here joins the story of the covenant with the fundamental revelation of the creation of the world in Genesis. The gift of the law occurs against the backdrop of the creation of the physical universe and of the human person made in the image of God as well as the fall of humanity into ignorance of God, which stems from an original disobedience of God’s commandments. In this light, the covenant with Israel appears as a gift that repairs the relationship of the human race with God and thus the creation as a whole.

Typologically, Nachmanides says that the descent of Israel into Egypt in the families of the patriarchs prefigures the later exile of the people of Israel into Babylon.1 This seems to accord with the intention of the final editors of the Torah. First Abraham goes down into Egypt (Gen. 12:10–20) and returns again, prefiguring the subsequent history of Moses and the Hebrews. The subsequent exodus from Egypt prefigures the Babylonian exile. From its inception, Israel lives in this world precariously amidst the powers of the world that may corrupt its calling to fidelity to the law. This allows the faith of the Israelites to shine through amidst the vulnerability of their temporal existence and gives ongoing witness to the power of God to sustain them in history as a sign to the nations.

This descent also foreshadows the voyage into Egypt of Joseph and Mary with the child Jesus (Matt. 2:14–15). The Christ, who is the fulfillment of the mystery of Israel, is taken down into Egypt, recapitulating that mystery in himself. This fulfills the prophecy of Hos. 11:1: “Out of Egypt I called my Son.” He who is naturally the Son of God, both God and man, is perfect in his human obedience to the law. He is the source of the grace of adoptive sonship for all other members of the covenant.

Anagogically, this descent represents the souls of men who go down into the material things of this world, living only by sensible knowledge and temporal desires. “Their dead bodies will lie in the street of the great city which is allegorically called Sodom and Egypt, where their Lord was crucified” (Rev. 11:8). Such men must be drawn up out of Egypt and into the life of God by the deliverance of the law and by the redemptive mystery of Christ.

1:8–14 “Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph” (1:8).

It is reasonable to conjecture from both historical and archeological arguments that the setting of this event might be in the thirteenth century BC, at the beginning of the nineteenth dynasty under Seti I (1308–1290 BC) and Rameses II (1290–1224 BC).2 At that time the Pharaohs moved their capital from Thebes to Rameses (mentioned in 1:11). The Hebrews of the region presumably came to be seen in a new way as a threat to Egyptian political security. Harsh forms of enforced manual labor were enjoined upon them. The portrayal of these practices in Exodus appears to be consistent with what is otherwise known about practices of that time.3

The Pharaoh in question is not named in scripture perhaps because his name had been forgotten by the people of Israel down through time or because someone wished to exert a kind of literary discretion. Whatever may be the case, the omission of the Pharaoh’s name has the effect of making him a kind of symbol. “Thus the LORD has said, ‘I revealed myself to the house of your father when they were in Egypt subject to the house of Pharaoh’” (1 Sam. 2:27). Subsequent Christian tradition understands this biblical symbol of the Pharaoh to stem from the intention of the Holy Spirit. What, then, does he represent?

According to the moral sense of scripture, the Pharaoh is representative of the human person under the influence of excessive pride, that is, an “inordinate desire of one’s own excellence.”4 In its most exaggerated forms, pride can lead to “a perverted imitation of God. For pride hates a fellowship of equality under God and seeks to impose its own dominion on fellow men in place of God’s rule.”5 Ironically, this terrible possibility exists precisely because of the innately spiritual nature of humanity. Because the human person is made in the image of God, he or she is capable of knowing and desiring the universal good, God himself. Consequently, human beings are also capable of wanting to be like God in ways that transcend the authentic scope of their nature and that are morally distended and unjust.

This tendency is clearly embodied in the Exodus narrative, for the Pharaoh presumes that he has authority to impose unjust political and economic practices upon others, that he has the authority to take innocent human life, and that he may, based on his religious designation, impede the divinely mandated religious activity of others. This attitude is consistent with much of the archaic religion of man, in which the head of state was thought to be an extension of the divinity. It is also consistent with the activity of many human governments in modernity in which human beings do not believe they are divine but either ignore the divine altogether or fail to respect the rights of the Church, which is of divine origin. Such governments may traffic in unjust legal and economic practices, permit or promote the destruction of innocent human life, or trample upon the freedom of the true religion.

Typologically, the Pharaoh represents the powers of the world that strive to eradicate the chosen people, Israel, through the use of temporal power and spiritual intimidation. He is a precursor of the Babylonian Empire that took Israel captive, but also of the Roman Empire at the time of Christ, which persecuted both Israel and the early Church. Thus he represents the powers of the world that oppose the spiritual good of the elect, and the Church.

Anagogically, the symbol of the Pharaoh represents man who resists the truth about God, which introduces the theme of divine reprobation. Paul makes this explicit in his letter to the Romans. “For the scripture says to Pharaoh, ‘I have raised you up for the very purpose of showing my power in you, so that my name may be proclaimed in all the earth’” (Rom. 9:17). However, the scriptures teach that God never reprobates a human being unless that person first culpably abandons God, and God is never the cause of moral evil, either directly or indirectly. “Your destruction is your own, O Israel. / Your help is only in me” (Hos. 13:9, my translation). “The omnipotent God wishes ‘all men’ without exception ‘to be saved’ (1 Tim. 2:4), even if not all are saved; that some, however, perish is the fault of those who perish.”6 God uses the actions of those who resist the grace and truth of God in order to further glorify his own goodness, justice, and mercy. I will return to this theme at length below.

1:15–22 “Then the king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives . . . ‘When you serve as midwife to the Hebrew women, and see them upon the birthstool, if it is a son, you shall kill him.’ . . . But the midwives feared God, and did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them” (1:15–17).

According to the author of Exodus, the Hebrews multiply both before and after their oppression by the Egyptians (1:7, 12), which is to be understood as a sign of the temporal blessings bestowed upon them by God, due to their election. The author understands this as a fulfillment of the prophecy made to Abraham in Gen. 12. Aquinas argues that the temporal blessings of the old covenant are meant to incite virtue and to teach that God will reward its pursuit. In this way, people are led gradually to a discovery of God as the final good. The new covenant, meanwhile, instructs overtly that the possession of God by grace is man’s perfect, final good. The act of charity, whereby we love God above all things, is thus an end in itself. Nevertheless, Aquinas adds:

There were some in the state of the Old Testament who, having charity and the grace of the Holy Spirit, looked chiefly to spiritual and eternal promises: and in this respect they belonged to the New Law. In like manner in the New Testament there are some carnal men who have not yet attained to the perfection of the New Law; and these it was necessary, even under the New Testament, to lead to virtuous action by the fear of punishment and by temporal promises.7

The two Testaments are in fact united in essence, with the New bringing to perfection what is implicitly present in the Old.

The Pharaoh responds to the threat of the Hebrews by commanding two midwives to kill the male children of the people. According to the Masoretic Text, Shiphrah and Puah are “Hebrew midwives,” but according to the Septuagint they are “the midwives of the Hebrews” (1:15, my translation).

Are the midwives righteous Gentiles or righteous Hebrews? The midwives are said to “fear God” (1:17), letting the male children live. In turn, God blesses them: “Because the midwives feared God, he gave them families” (1:21). If they are Gentiles, then the text indicates that there is an inner moral law written on the hearts of all persons and that this law of the human conscience connects even the Gentiles to God (Rom. 2:14), just as it does Israel, who has received the precept, “You shall not murder” (Exod. 20:13 NRSV). However, even if the midwives are Hebrews they are persons who, from the standpoint of the narrative, have yet to receive the divine law. Consequently, the fundamental moral message is similar in either case: human beings have a law written on their hearts that prefigures the gift of the Mosaic law. However, the promulgated, revealed law is necessary on account of human confusion and weakness, as well as the collective social effects of human sin—all of which can be observed in this passage.

Did the midwives lie to the Pharaoh, and if so, is it morally licit to lie in order to save innocent human life? In answer to the first question, the Masoretic Text seems to depict the women as deceiving the Pharaoh. They refuse to obey and tell him, “The Hebrew women . . . are vigorous and are delivered before the midwife comes to them” (1:19). The Septuagint, meanwhile, suggests that they tell the truth. It translates 1:19 in such a way that the midwives merely report a fact: that the Hebrew wives give birth before one can take their children away. Correspondingly, the translation depicts the king ordering them to destroy the children just prior to delivery—presumably through a kind of late-term abortion, which is an order they resist in conscience (1:16 LXX).

Presuming that the midwives are misleading the king, is their deception morally problematic? Some commentators express frustration with the question. After all, the Pharaoh intends a kind of genocide. Clearly extraordinary means are required in order to evade his tactics and protect human life. Can one not lie during a genocide to save human life? To question such a procedure is itself morally problematic.

Against this position, however, consider the following: the portrait of the sc...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Series Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Epigraph
• Contents
• Series Preface
• Acknowledgments
• Abbreviations
• Introduction
• 1. Deliverance from Egypt
• 2. Wilderness
• 3. Covenant
• 4. Cultic Rituals
• 5. Fall and Eschatological Restoration
• Epilogue
• Coda
• Bibliography
• Subject Index
• Name Index
• Scripture Index
• Back Cover