Notes on the book of Exodus. Charles Henry Mackintosh
the combined power of earth and hell could not hold them in captivity one hour beyond His appointed time. He might and did use Egypt as a school, and Pharaoh as a schoolmaster; but when the needed work was accomplished, both the school and the schoolmaster were set aside, and His people were brought forth with a high hand and an outstretched arm.
Such, then, was the double character of the revelation made to Moses at Mount Horeb. What he saw and what he heard combined the two elements of holiness and grace—elements which, as we know, enter into and distinctly characterize all the ways and all the relationships of the blessed God, and which should also mark the ways of all those who in any wise act for, or have fellowship with, Him. Every true servant is sent forth from the immediate presence of God, with all its holiness and all its grace; and he is called to be holy and gracious—he is called to be the reflection of the grace and holiness of the divine character; and, in order that he may be so, he should not only start from the immediate presence of God at the first, but abide there, in spirit, habitually. This is the true secret of effectual service.
"Childlike, attend what Thou wilt say,
Go forth and do it, while 'tis day,
Yet never leave my sweet retreat."
The spiritual man alone can understand the meaning of the two things, "go forth and do," and, "yet never leave." In order to act for God outside, I should be with Him inside. I must be in the secret sanctuary of His presence, else I shall utterly fail.
Very many break down on this point. There is the greatest possible danger of getting out of the solemnity and calmness of the divine presence, amid the bustle of intercourse with men, and the excitement of active service. This is to be carefully guarded against. If we lose that hallowed tone of spirit which is expressed in "the unshod foot," our service will very speedily become vapid and unprofitable. If I allow my work to get between my heart and the Master, it will be little worth. We can only effectually serve Christ as we are enjoying Him. It is while the heart dwells upon His powerful attractions that the hands perform the most acceptable service to His name; nor is there any one who can minister Christ with unction, freshness, and power to others, if he be not feeding upon Christ, in the secret of his own soul. True, he may preach a sermon, deliver a lecture, utter prayers, write a book, and go through the entire routine of outward service, and yet not minister Christ. The man who will present Christ to others must be occupied with Christ for himself.
Happy is the man who ministers thus, whatever be the success or reception of his ministry. For should his ministry fail to attract attention, to command influence, or to produce apparent results, he has his sweet retreat and his unfailing portion in Christ, of which nothing can deprive him. Whereas, the man who is merely feeding upon the fruits of his ministry, who delights in the gratification which it affords, or the attention and interest which it commands, is like a mere pipe, conveying water to others, and retaining only rust itself. This is a most deplorable condition to be in; and yet is it the actual condition of every servant who is more occupied with his work and its results, than with the Master and His glory.
This is a matter which calls for the most rigid self-judgment. The heart is deceitful, and the enemy is crafty; and hence there is great need to hearken to the word of exhortation, "Be sober, be vigilant." It is when the soul is awakened to a sense of the varied and manifold dangers which beset the servant's path, that it is, in any measure, able to understand the need there is for being much alone with God: it is there one is secure and happy. It is when we begin, continue, and end our work at the Master's feet, that our service will be of the right kind.
From all that has been said, it must be evident to my reader that every servant of Christ will find the air of "the backside of the desert" most salutary. Horeb is really the starting-post for all whom God sends forth to act for Him. It was at Horeb that Moses learnt to put off his shoes and hide his face. Forty years before, he had gone to work; but his movement was premature. It was amid the flesh-subduing solitudes of the mount of God, and forth from the burning bush, that the divine commission fell on the servant's ear, "Come now, therefore, and I will send thee unto Pharaoh, that thou mayest bring forth my people, the children of Israel, out of Egypt." (Ver. 10.) Here was real authority. There is a vast difference between God sending a man, and a man running unsent. But it is very manifest that Moses was not ripe for service when first he set about acting. If forty years of secret training were needful for him, how could he have got on without it? Impossible! He had to be divinely educated and divinely commissioned; and so must all who go forth upon a path of service or testimony for Christ. O, that these holy lessons may be deeply graven on all our hearts, that so our every work may wear upon it the stamp of the Master's authority and the Master's approval.
However, we have something further to learn at the foot of Mount Horeb. The soul finds it seasonable to linger in this place. "It is good to be here." The presence of God is ever a deeply practical place; the heart is sure to be laid open there. The light that shines in that holy place makes everything manifest; and this is what is so much needed in the midst of the hollow pretension around us, and the pride and self-complacency within.
We might be disposed to think that the very moment the divine commission was given to Moses, his reply would be, Here am I, or, Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do? But no; he had yet to be brought to this. Doubtless, he was affected by the remembrance of his former failure. If a man acts in anything without God, he is sure to be discouraged, even when God is sending him. "And Moses said unto God, 'Who am I that I should go unto Pharaoh, and that I should bring forth the children of Israel out of Egypt?'" (Ver. 11.) This is very unlike the man who, forty years before, "supposed that his brethren would have understood how that God by his hand would deliver them." Such is man!—at one time too hasty; at another time too slow. Moses had learnt a great deal since the day in which he smote the Egyptian. He had grown in the knowledge of himself, and this produced diffidence and timidity. But then he manifestly lacked confidence in God. If I am merely looking at myself, I shall do "nothing;" but if I am looking at Christ, "I can do all things." Thus, when diffidence and timidity led Moses to say, "Who am I?" God's answer was, "Certainly I will be with thee." (Ver. 12.) This ought to have been sufficient. If God be with me, it makes very little matter who I am, or what I am. When God says, "I will send thee," and "I will be with thee," the servant is amply furnished with divine authority and divine power; and he ought, therefore, to be perfectly satisfied to go forth.
But Moses puts another question; for the human heart is full of questions. "And Moses said unto God, 'Behold, when I come unto the children of Israel and shall say unto them, The God of your fathers hath sent me unto you; and they shall say to me, What is His name? what shall I say unto them?'" It is marvelous to see how the human heart reasons and questions, when unhesitating obedience is that which is due to God; and still more marvelous is the grace that bears with all the reasonings and answers all the questions. Each question seems but to elicit some new feature of divine grace.
"And God said unto Moses, 'I AM THAT I AM;' and He said, 'Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.'" (Ver. 14.) The title which God here gives Himself is one of wondrous significancy. In tracing through Scripture the various names which God takes, we find them intimately connected with the varied need of those with whom He was in relation. "Jehovah-jireh" (the Lord will provide), "Jehovah-nissi" (the Lord my banner), "Jehovah-shalom" (the Lord send peace), "Jehovah-tsidkenu" (the Lord our righteousness)—all these His gracious titles are unfolded to meet the necessities of His people; and when He calls Himself "I AM," it comprehends them all. Jehovah, in taking this title, was furnishing His people with a blank check, to be filled up to any amount. He calls Himself "I AM," and faith has but to write over against that ineffably precious name whatever we want. God is the only significant figure, and human need may add the ciphers. If we want life, Christ says, "I AM the life;" if we want righteousness, He is "THE LORD OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS;" if we want peace, "He is our peace;" if we want "wisdom, sanctification, and redemption," He "is made" all these "unto us." In a word, we may travel through the wide range of human necessity, in order to have a just conception of the amazing depth and fullness of this profound and adorable name, "I AM."
What a mercy to be called to walk in companionship with One who bears such a name as this! We are in the wilderness, and there we have to meet with trial, sorrow, and difficulty; but, so long as