'And the angel of God, which went before the camp of
Israel, removed and went behind them; and the pillar of
the cloud went from before their face, and stood behind
them: 20. And it came between the camp of the Egyptians
and the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness
to them, but it gave light by night to these: so that
the one came not near the other all the night. 21. And
Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; and the Lord
caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all that
night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were
divided. 22. And the children of Israel went into the
midst of the sea upon the dry ground: and the waters
were a wall unto them on their right hand, and on their
left. 23. And the Egyptians pursued, and went in after
them to the midst of the sea, even all Pharaoh's horses,
his chariots, and his horsemen. 24. And it came to pass,
that in the morning watch the Lord looked unto the host
of the Egyptians through the pillar of fire and of the
cloud, and troubled the host of the Egyptians, 25. And
took off their chariot-wheels, that they drave them
heavily: so that the Egyptians said, Let us flee from
the face of Israel; for the Lord fighteth for them
against the Egyptians. 26. And the Lord said unto Moses,
Stretch out thine hand over the sea, that the waters may
come again upon the Egyptians, upon their chariots, and
upon their horsemen. 27. And Moses stretched forth his
hand over the sea, and the sea returned to his strength
when the morning appeared; and the Egyptians fled against
it; and the Lord overthrew the Egyptians in the midst of
the sea. 28. And the waters returned, and covered the
chariots, and the horsemen, and all the host of Pharaoh
that came into the sea after them; there remained not
so much as one of them. 29. But the children of Israel
walked upon dry land in the midst of the sea; and the
waters were a wall unto them on their right hand, and
on their left. 30. Thus the Lord saved Israel that day
out of the hand of the Egyptians; and Israel saw the
Egyptians dead upon the sea-shore. 31. And Israel saw
that great work which the Lord did upon the Egyptians:
and the people feared the Lord, and believed the Lord,
and His servant Moses.'--EXODUS xiv. 19-31.
This passage begins at the point where the fierce charge of the
Egyptian chariots and cavalry on the straggling masses of the fugitives
is inexplicably arrested. The weary day's march, which must have seemed
as suicidal to the Israelites as it did to their pursuers, had ended in
bringing them into a position where, as Luther puts it, they were like
a mouse in a trap or a partridge in a snare. The desert, the sea, the
enemy, were their alternatives. And, as they camped, they saw in the
distance the rapid advance of the dreaded force of chariots, probably
the vanguard of an army. No wonder that they lost heart. Moses alone
keeps his head and his faith. He is rewarded with the fuller promise of
deliverance, and receives the power accompanying the command, to
stretch forth his hand, and part the sea. Then begins the marvellous
series of incidents here recorded.
I. The first step in the leisurely march of the divine deliverance is
the provision for checking the Egyptian advance and securing the safe
breaking up of the Israelitish camp. The pursuers had been coming
whirling along at full speed, and would soon have been amongst the
disorderly mass, dealing destruction. There was no possibility of
getting the crossing effected unless they were held at bay. When an
army has to ford a river in the face of hostile forces, the hazardous
operation is possible only if a strong rearguard is left on the enemy's
side, to cover the passage. This is exactly what is done here. The
pillar of fire and cloud, the symbol of the divine presence, passed
from the van to the rear. Its guidance was not needed, when but one
path through the sea was possible. Its defence was needed when the foe
was pressing eagerly on the heels of the host. His people's needs
determined then, as they ever do, the form of the divine presence and
help. Long after, the prophet seized the great lesson of this event,
when he broke into the triumphant anticipation of a yet future
deliverance,--which should repeat in fresh experience the ancient
victory, 'The Lord will go before you; and the God of Israel will be
your rearward,' In the place where the need is sorest, and in the form
most required, there and that will God ever be to those who trust Him.
We can see here, too, a frequent characteristic of the miraculous
element in Scripture, namely, its reaching its end not by a leap, but
by a process. Once admit miracle, and it appears as if adaptation of
means to ends was unnecessary. It would have been as easy to have
transported the Israelites bodily and instantaneously to the other side
of the sea, as to have taken these precautions and then cleft the
ocean, and made them march through it. Legendary miracle would have
preferred the former way. The Bible miracle usually adapts methods to
aims, and is content to travel to its goal step by step.
Nor can we omit to notice the double effect of the one manifestation of
the divine presence. The same pillar was light and darkness. The side
which was cloud was turned to the pursuers; that which was light, to
Israel. The former were paralysed, and hindered from advancing a step,
or from seeing what the latter were doing; these, on the other hand,
had light thrown on their strange path, and were encouraged and helped
to plunge into the mysterious road, by the ruddy gleam which disclosed
it. So every revelation is either light or darkness to men, according
to the use they make of it. The ark, which slew Philistines, and flung
Dagon prone on his own threshold, brought blessing to the house of
Obededom. The Child who was to be 'set for the fall,' was also for 'the
rising of many.' The stone laid in Zion is 'a sure foundation,' and 'a
stone of stumbling.' The Gospel is the savour of life unto life, or of
death unto death. The same fire melts wax and hardens clay. The same
Christ is salvation and destruction. God is to each of us either our
joy or our dread.
II. The sudden march of the Egyptians having thus been arrested, there
is leisure, behind the shelter of the fiery barrier, to take the next
step in the deliverance. The sea is not divided in a moment. Again, we
have a process to note, and that brought about by two things,--Moses'
outstretched rod, and the strong wind which blew all night. The
chronology of that fateful night is difficult to adjust from our
narrative. It would appear, from verse 20, that the Egyptians were
barred advancing until morning; and, from verse 21, that the wind which
ploughed with its strong ploughshare a furrow through the sea, took all
night for its work. But, on the other hand, the Israelites must have
been well across, and the Egyptians in the very midst of the passage,
'in the morning watch,' and all was over soon after 'the morning
appeared.' Probably the wind continued all the night, so as to keep up
the pressure which dammed back the waters, but the path was passable
some hours before the gale abated. It must have been a broad way to
admit of some two million frightened people with wives and children
effecting a crossing in the short hours of part of one night.
But though God used the wind as His besom to sweep a road clear for His
people, the effect produced by ordinary means was extraordinary. No
wind that ever blew would blow water in two opposite directions at
once, as a man might shovel snow to right and left, and heap it in
mounds by the sides of the path that he dug. That was what the text
tells us was done. The miracle is none the less a miracle because God
employed physical agents, just as Christ's miracles were no less
miraculous when He anointed blind eyes with moistened clay, or sent men
to wash in Siloam, than when His bare word raised the dead or stilled
the ocean. Wind or no wind, Moses' rod or no rod, the true explanation
of that broad path cleared through the sea is--'the waters saw Thee, O
God.' The use of natural means may have been an aid to feeble faith,
encouraging it to step down on to the untrodden and slippery road. The
employment of Moses and his rod was to attest his commission to act as
God's mouthpiece.
III. Then comes the safe passage. It is hard to imagine the scene. The
vivid impression made by our story is all the more remarkable when we
notice how wanting in detail it is. We do not know the time nor the
place. We have no information about how the fugitives got across, the
breadth of the path, or its length. Characteristically enough, Jewish
legends know all about both, and assure us that the waters were parted
into twelve ways, one for each tribe, and that the length of the road
was three hundred miles! But Scripture, with characteristic reticence,
is silent about all but the fact. That is enough. We gather, from the
much later and poetical picture of it in Psalm lxxvii., that the
passage was accomplished in the midst of crashing thunder and flashing
lightnings; though it may be doubted whether these are meant to be
taken as real or ideal. At all events, we have to think of these two
millions of people--women, children, and followers--plunging into the
depths in the night.
What a scene! The awestruck crowds, the howling wind, perhaps the
thunderstorm, the glow of the pillar glistening on the wet and slimy
way, the full paschal moon shining on the heaped waters! How the awe
and the hope must both have increased with each step deeper in the
abyss, and nearer to safety! The Epistle to the Hebrews takes this as
an instance of 'faith' on the part of the Israelites; and truly we can
feel that it must have taken some trust in God's protecting hand to
venture on such a road, where, at any moment, the walls might collapse
and drown them all. They were driven to venture by their fear of
Pharaoh; but faith, as well as fear, wrought in them. Our faith, too,
is often called upon to venture upon perilous paths. We may trust Him
to hold back the watery walls from falling. The picture of the crossing
carries eternal truth for us all. The way of safety does not open till
we are hemmed in, and Pharaoh's chariots are almost come up. It often
leads into the very thick of what we deem perils. It often has to be
ventured on in the dark, and with the wind in our faces. But if we
tread it in faith, the fluid will be made solid, and the pathless
passable, or any other apparent impossibility be realised, before our
confidence shall be put to shame, or one real evil reach us.
IV. The next stage is the hot pursuit and the panic of the Egyptians.
The narrative does not mark the point at which the pillar lifted and
disclosed the escape of the prey. It must have been in the night. The
baffled pursuers dash after them, either not seeing, or too excited and
furious to heed where they were going. The rough sea bottom was no
place for chariots, and they would be hopelessly distanced by the
fugitives on foot. How long they stumbled and weltered we are not told,
but 'in the morning watch,' that is, while it was yet dark, some awful
movement in the fiery pillar awed even their anger into stillness, and
drove home the conviction that they were fighting against God. There is
something very terrible in the vagueness, if we may call it so, of that
phrase 'the Lord looked ... through the pillar.' It curdles the blood
as no minuteness of narrative would do. And what a thought that His
look should be a trouble! 'The steady whole of the judge's face' is
awful, and some creeping terror laid hold on that host of mad pursuers
floundering in the dark, as that more than natural light flared on
their path. The panic to which all bodies of soldiers in strange
circumstances are exposed, was increased by the growing difficulty of
advance, as the chariot wheels became clogged or the ground more of
quicksand. At last it culminates in a shout of '_Sauve qui peut!_' We
may learn how close together lie daring rebellion against God and
abject terror of Him; and how in a moment, a glance of His face, a turn
of His hand, bring the wildest blasphemer to cower in fear. We may
learn, too, to keep clear of courses which cannot be followed a moment
longer, if once a thought that God sees us comes in. And we may learn
the miserable result of all departure from Him, in making what ought to
be our peace and blessing, our misery and terror, and turning the
brightness of His face into a consuming fire.
V. Then comes, at last, the awful act of destruction, of which a man is
the agent and an army the victim. We must suppose the Israelites all
safe on the Arabian coast, when the level sunlight streams from the
east on the wild hurry of the fleeing crowd making for the Egyptian
shore. What a solemn sight that young morning looked on! The wind had
dropped, the rod is stretched out, the sea returns to its strength; and
after a few moments' despairing struggle all is over, and the sun, as
it climbs, looks down upon the unbroken stretch of quiet sea, bearing
no trace of the awful work which it had done, or of the quenched hatred
and fury which slept beneath.
We can understand the stern joy which throbs so vehemently in every
pulse of that great song, the first blossom of Hebrew poetry, which the
ransomed people sang that day. We can sympathise with the many echoes
in psalm and prophecy, which repeated the lessons of faith and
gratitude. But some will be ready to ask, Was that triumphant song
anything more than narrow national feeling, and has Christianity not
taught us another and tenderer thought of God than that which this
lesson carries? We may ask in return, Was it divine providence that
swept the Spanish Armada from the sea, fulfilling, as the medal struck
to commemorate it bore, the very words of Moses' song, 'Thou didst blow
with Thy wind, the sea covered them'? Was it God who overwhelmed
Napoleon's army in the Russian snows? Were these, and many like acts in
the world's history, causes for thankfulness to God? Is it not true
that, as has been well said, 'The history of the world is the judgment
of the world'? And does Christianity forbid us to rejoice when some
mighty and ancient system of wrong and oppression, with its tools and
accomplices, is cleared from off the face of the earth? 'When the
wicked perish, there is shouting.' Let us not forget that the love and
gentleness of the Gospel are accompanied by the revelation of divine
judgment and righteous retribution. This very incident has for its last
echo in Scripture that wonderful scene in the Apocalypse, where, in the
pause before the seven angels bearing the seven plagues go forth, the
seer beholds a company of choristers, like those who on that morning
stood on the Red Sea shore, standing on the bank of the 'sea of glass
mingled with fire,'--which symbolises the clear and crystalline depth
of the stable divine judgments, shot with fiery retribution,--and
lifting up by anticipation a song of thanksgiving for the judgments
about to be wrought. That song is expressly called 'the song of Moses'
and 'of the Lamb,' in token of the essential unity of the two
dispensations, and especially of the harmony of both in their view of
the divine judgments. Its ringing praises are modelled on the ancient
lyric. It, too, triumphs in God's judgments, regards them as means of
making known His name, as done not for destruction, but that His
character may be known and honoured by men, to whom it is life and
peace to know and love Him for what He is.
That final victory over 'the beast,' whether he be a person or a
tendency, is to reproduce in higher fashion that old conquest by the
Red Sea. There is hope for the world that its oppressors shall not
always tyrannise; there is hope for each soul that, if we take Christ
for our deliverer and our guide, He will break the chains from off our
wrists, and bring us at last to the eternal shore, where we may stand,
like the ransomed people, and, as the unsetting morning dawns, see its
beams touching with golden light the calm ocean, beneath which our
oppressors lie buried for ever, and lift up glad thanksgivings to Him
who has 'led us through fire and through water, and brought us out into
a wealthy place.'
'MY STRENGTH AND SONG'
'The Lord is my strength and song, and He is become my
salvation....'
EXODUS xv. 2.
These words occur three times in the Bible: here, in Isaiah xii. 2, and
in Psalm cxviii. 14.
I. The lessons from the various instances of their occurrence. The
first and second teach that the Mosaic deliverance is a
picture-prophecy of the redemption in Christ. The third (Psalm cxviii.
14), long after, and the utterance of some private person, teaches that
each age and each soul has the same mighty Hand working for it. 'As we
have heard, so have we seen.'