Reading Exodus: Judgement & Redemption

 “The Lord is a man of war; the Lord is his name.
        ...
You have led in your steadfast love the people whom you have redeemed;”（Ex 15:3, 13a）

Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good,
    for His steadfast love endures forever.

          …

to Him who struck down the firstborn of Egypt,
    for His steadfast love endures forever;
and brought Israel out from among them,
    for His steadfast love endures forever;
with a strong hand and an outstretched arm,
    for His steadfast love endures forever;
to Him who divided the Red Sea in two,
    for His steadfast love endures forever;
and made Israel pass through the midst of it,
    for His steadfast love endures forever;
but overthrew Pharaoh and his host in the Red Sea,
    for His steadfast love endures forever;

          …    

                                                                (Ps 136:1, 10-15 ESV)

Psalm 136, known in Jewish tradition as “the Great Hallel,” is the psalmist’s recollection and recounting of God’s mercies, poured out in praise and thanksgiving. Strikingly, he devotes nearly a quarter of the psalm to two pivotal events in Israel’s exodus from Egypt: the tenth plague and the crossing of the Red Sea — a clear sign of just how significant a place these two events hold in the history of Israel as a nation.

Exodus 12:1–15:21 centres precisely on these two climactic events.

After the LORD had announced the tenth plague in Exodus 11, chapter 12 records how, exactly as He had declared, He passed through the whole land of Egypt. No firstborn throughout the land — from the firstborn of Pharaoh, exalted on his throne, down to the firstborn of the livestock — was spared. Yet the Israelites came safely out of Egypt, led all the way by God’s pillar of cloud and pillar of fire, as they pressed on towards the good land of freedom.

Then, when the Red Sea barred their path and Pharaoh's great army bore down hard behind them, the LORD displayed His mighty power once more — first parting the sea, then causing its waters to flow back again. In this He gained glory over Pharaoh and all his army, and received the praise and worship of Moses and the people of Israel (Exodus 14–15).

What is worth noticing is that, in telling these two events, the author of Exodus inserts two passages that seem strangely out of place, so that the narrative does not read altogether smoothly. The shape of chapters 12–15 runs broadly like this —

(Chapter 11:) the announcement of the tenth plague — (digression 1) — the carrying out of the tenth plague — Israel's departure from Egypt — (digression 2) — the Red Sea — the song of Moses and the people

Both of these intrusions turn on a single matter: the institution of the Passover. They feel abrupt because they break the rhythm of what might otherwise have been told in one unbroken sweep. Yet it is by means of this very interruption that the author of Exodus directs our attention to the Passover.

The Death of the Firstborn, 19th c. (Artist unknown)

Historically, this is the setting in which the word “Passover” appears for the first time in the whole Bible. Like later generations of Israel, we come to see how closely the Passover is bound to the tenth plague that was then about to fall. In Exodus 12:11–13 the LORD charges the people of Israel in these words:

“In this manner you shall eat it: with your belt fastened, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand. And you shall eat it in haste. It is the Lord's Passover. For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. The blood shall be a sign for you, on the houses where you are. And when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague  will befall you to destroy you, when I strike the land of Egypt.” (12:11-13, ESV)

When the LORD passed through Egypt in judgement and the destroyer struck down the Egyptians, wherever the lamb's blood had already been daubed on the lintel and doorposts of a house, He would "pass over" it, and the lives within were spared.

In this way, we see that Israel’s very survival as a people rested entirely upon the LORD’s “passing over.” From the beginning, Israel’s national history was bound inseparably to the Passover.

Theologically, the Passover brings home to us several further truths.

First, on that night judgement and redemption fell together.

As judgement fell upon the Egyptians, the people of Israel were passed over. And it was through this tenth plague that Israel was at last able to leave the land of their bondage and set out for the good land God had promised. God both judged Egypt and her gods (12:12) and redeemed Israel out of slavery.

Second, God Himself provided a way through His own judgement.

If the tenth plague laid bare the emptiness of Egypt's gods and the sham of Pharaoh's sovereignty, the Passover revealed God's gracious provision in the very midst of judgement. Israel was spared, while Egypt was struck down— not because the Israelites were of superior character or nobler virtue. Not at all. Israel was spared solely because of the blood of the lamb on the doorposts and lintel of their houses.

 

That the LORD's judgement is real is a fact; that everyone must face it is a fact; that no one can stand before it is a fact too. And yet, for the people bound to Him in covenant, He had prepared the blood of a lamb. What we see here is God's faithfulness to His covenant and His mercy towards the people He had made His own— and, beyond that, His substitutionary provision in the midst of judgement, pointing forward across many long years to the cross.

Third, the redemption brought about through the Passover was not merely an escape; it was the formation of a people. 

At the very institution of the Passover, the LORD instructed Moses and Aaron, “This month shall be for you the beginning of months. It shall be the first month of the year for you.” (12:2). Plainly, then, through the ten plagues, God was doing more than judging Egypt and Pharaoh and freeing Israel from a life of slavery: through the Passover that the tenth plague brought about, He was giving Israel a new identity, calling them to live within a new ordering of time, and so opening for them a new story of life. 

From that day on, on the fourteenth day of the first month each year (the month of Aviv, later Nisan), Israel was to keep the Passover, so that generation after generation they would never forget how the LORD had kept the covenant He made with their forefathers, and how, by signs and wonders, He had led them and built them into a people that was His very own.

 

After the abrupt account of the Passover comes Israel's plight: the Red Sea before them, the Egyptian army behind. Yet as we read on, we find that this passage through the sea is itself another instance of judgement and redemption falling together. For Israel, the waters of the Red Sea opened into a path of deliverance; for Pharaoh and his army, those same waters became the instrument of judgement.

Parting of the Red Sea (from Judaica Masterpieces)

On that day, "the waters flowed back to their place, and as the Egyptians fled towards them, the LORD cast them into the midst of the sea. As the waters returned, they covered the chariots, the horsemen, and the whole army of Pharaoh that had followed the Israelites into the sea; not one of them was left" (14:28). With that, the author of Exodus brought this bleak chapter of Israel's bondage in Egypt to its close — a full stop of justice. And justice it was, for the cruellest of all the sufferings Israel had endured in Egypt was Pharaoh's command to his people: "Every son that is born to the Hebrews you shall cast into the river…" (Exodus 1:22a). Pharaoh and the Egyptians had done their evil by water; in the end they themselves were engulfed by water.

The judgement of the LORD is never arbitrary, capricious, or wilful. It is His final reckoning against arrogant pride, violent oppression, greedy exploitation, and all human defiance against God.

Through the song of Moses and the Israelites in Exodus 15:1–21, the author of Exodus brings the tenth plague and the crossing of the Red Sea to a fitting conclusion, making plain that the LORD is both a "warrior" (15:3a) and the "redeemer of his people" (15:13a). He is a warrior: he stood against Pharaoh's army and routed it. He is a redeemer: he prepared a way of redemption for his people and drew them out of slavery.

 

This recognition did more than move Moses and the Israelites to praise. All along the road into the promised land it became the mark and token of their identity; and beyond that, it became part of Israel’s national memory, handed down from mouth to mouth, surfacing again and again in the songs and the prophetic preaching of later days. As Israel's history unfolded, this same recognition came at last to supply the very language in which they spoke of the Messiah they longed for — a Messiah who would be a warrior, breaking the power of the enemy; a Messiah who would be, still more, a redeemer, drawing Israel out of the enemy's hand.

And today? This Messiah whom we ourselves confess with our lips and believe in our hearts — this Christ, Jesus — is he not, on this road of ours, the warrior who fights for us? Is he not also the redeemer who delivers us again and again? And in the shared memory of the church, what kind of Christ is he?