Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 18)

Summary:

In Exodus 18, Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law and a priest of Midian, hears of God’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt and visits Moses in the wilderness with his wife Zipporah and sons. 

Jethro rejoices in God’s deeds, confesses Yahweh as greater than all gods, and offers sacrifices, sharing a meal with Moses, Aaron, and the elders. 

Observing Moses overburdened with judging disputes, Jethro advises him to delegate authority to capable, God-fearing men to handle minor cases, reserving major ones for himself. 

Moses heeds the counsel, appointing rulers over thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens.

Pointing to Jesus:

Jethro’s confession and worship as a Gentile outsider point to God’s redemptive plan to extend salvation beyond Israel to the nations, fulfilled in Christ who draws all peoples to Himself through the gospel. Kevin DeYoung, highlights this in his sermon on Exodus 18: “The God who makes himself known will be made known among the nations by saving his people and by his saved people.” 

Reflection:

Exodus 18 encourages Christians to embrace wise counsel and delegate responsibilities within the church community, reflecting humility and reliance on God’s structure for leadership as seen in New Testament elders. 

It also reminds believers of their role in witnessing God’s redemptive work, inviting outsiders to faith like Jethro, fostering a life of gratitude, shared burdens, and mission to proclaim Christ’s salvation to all nations.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 17)

Summary:

In Exodus 17, the Israelites, camping at Rephidim, complain to Moses about the lack of water. 

God instructs Moses to strike a rock at Horeb with his staff, and water flows out for the people to drink. 

The place is named Massah and Meribah due to their testing and quarreling with the Lord. 

Later, the Amalekites attack Israel; Joshua leads the fight while Moses, with Aaron and Hur’s help, holds up his hands with the staff of God, ensuring victory as long as his hands are raised.

Pointing to Jesus:

The water from the rock in Exodus 17 foreshadows Christ as the spiritual rock who provides living water for eternal life, as referenced in 1 Corinthians 10:4. John Calvin emphasizes this typological connection: “But though God branded the people for their malignity and perversity, with a lasting mark of ignominy, yet did He afford them an extraordinary proof of His goodness, not only in bestowing on them the drink by which their bodies might be refreshed, but by honoring their souls also with spiritual drink, as Paul testifies, (1 Corinthians 10:4,) “that rock was Christ,” and therefore he compares the water which flowed from it to the cup of the holy supper.” 

Reflection:

Exodus 17 teaches Christians about trusting God’s provision in times of need and the power of intercession in spiritual battles. 

Just as the rock provided water amid complaint, Christ quenches our spiritual thirst through faith, reminding us to turn to Him rather than grumble. 

The victory over Amalek highlights the importance of perseverance in prayer and community support, encouraging believers to uphold one another in the ongoing fight against sin and adversity, relying on God’s strength for triumph.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 16)

Summary:

In Exodus 16, the Israelites, having left Elim, enter the Wilderness of Sin and complain to Moses and Aaron about their hunger, longing for the food they had in Egypt. 

God responds by promising to rain down bread from heaven (manna) each morning and provide quail in the evening. 

The people are instructed to gather only what they need daily, with a double portion on the sixth day to observe the Sabbath. 

This provision tests their obedience; some try to hoard manna, but it spoils, while the Sabbath portion remains fresh. 

Through this, God demonstrates His faithfulness and teaches reliance on Him.

Pointing to Jesus:

The manna in Exodus 16 is seen as a type (or foreshadowing) of Jesus Christ, the true bread from heaven who sustains believers spiritually. 

John Calvin, in his commentary, connects this directly: “For St. Paul calls the manna ‘spiritual meat,’ (1 Corinthians 10:3,) in another sense, because it was a type of the flesh of Christ, which feeds our minds unto the hope of eternal life.” 

Reflection:

Exodus 16 illustrates the Christian’s daily dependence on God’s provision, much like praying for “daily bread” in the Lord’s Prayer. 

It reminds believers to trust in Christ’s sustaining grace rather than self-reliance, to obey His commands without hoarding earthly securities, and to rest in His faithfulness, fostering a life of gratitude and contentment amid trials.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 15)

Summary:

Exodus 15 is the Song of Moses and Miriam, Israel’s first recorded worship service after the Red Sea.

Verses 1–18 form a triumphant hymn: the people praise Yahweh as a warrior who has thrown horse and rider into the sea, drowned Pharaoh’s army, and revealed His incomparable majesty. 

The song celebrates God’s steadfast love, His redemption of a people for His own possession, and His promise to plant them securely in His sanctuary.

Verse 19 recaps the miracle, then Miriam leads the women in a responsive chorus with tambourines and dancing.

The chapter ends abruptly in verses 22–27: after three days in the wilderness, Israel grumbles at the bitter water of Marah. 

God shows Moses a log (or tree) that makes the water sweet, and they camp at Elim with twelve springs and seventy palm trees.

Pointing to Jesus:

The Song of Moses is explicitly identified in Revelation 15:3 as the song sung by the final redeemed multitude standing beside the sea of glass and fire—victors over the beast. 

This means the Red Sea deliverance is not merely a past event; it is the prototype of the greater exodus accomplished by Christ.

The destruction of Pharaoh in the sea is the Old Testament’s clearest picture of the harrowing of hell and the decisive overthrow of Satan at the cross (Col 2:15). 

Jesus, the true Israel and the greater Moses, went down into the chaotic waters of death and divine judgment; on the third day He rose triumphant, leading captivity captive. 

The church now sings the same song because she has been baptized into the same victory. 

Every local congregation that lifts its voice on the Lord’s Day is joining the eschatological choir that will one day sing the Song of Moses and of the Lamb without the interruption of Marah’s bitterness.

Reflection:

Exodus 15 captures the entire emotional and spiritual cycle of the believer: explosive joy followed almost immediately by grumbling.

•  The moment we taste the greatest deliverance (conversion, a season of revival, a dramatic answer to prayer), we are tempted to think the wilderness is over. Yet three days later we are thirsty and bitter again. The same mouths that sang “The Lord is my strength and my song” can three verses later mutter “What shall we drink?”

•  This chapter teaches us that worship is the only sustainable antidote to grumbling. The song came before the water was sweetened; praise is not the fruit of circumstances but the root of perseverance.

•  The tree that made Marah’s water sweet is a quiet but profound picture of the cross: the instrument of greatest bitterness, thrown into the stream of our lives, turns every trial drinkable.
So the Christian life is learning to sing the victory song in advance—on Sunday, in the wilderness, at the grave’s edge—because the Horse and Rider have already been thrown into the sea, and the final Elim of the new creation is guaranteed by the resurrection of the Lamb. Until then, we march tambourine in hand, refusing to let the silence of despair have the last word.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 14)

Summary:

Exodus 14

Trapped between the Red Sea and Pharaoh’s pursuing army, Israel panics and accuses Moses of leading them to death. 

God commands Moses to stretch out his staff, and the Lord divides the sea by a strong east wind, creating a dry path with walls of water on both sides. Israel walks through on dry ground while the pillar of cloud/fire stands between them and the Egyptians. 

When Pharaoh’s chariots follow, Moses stretches out his hand again, the waters return, and the entire Egyptian army is drowned. 

Israel sees the Egyptians dead on the shore, fears the Lord, and believes in Him and in His servant Moses.

Pointing to Jesus:

The crossing of the Red Sea is a corporate baptism into salvation and judgment (1 Cor 10:1–2). 

Israel passes safely through the waters only because the Lord Himself fights for them; they contribute nothing but terrified faith. 

This is a stunning picture of effectual calling and union with Christ: God’s elect are brought through the waters of death and judgment while still helpless and unbelieving (“Why did you bring us out to die?”). 

The same waters that save Israel utterly destroy Pharaoh and his host—exactly as Christ’s death and resurrection both deliver the elect and condemn the reprobate. 

The Red Sea is the decisive demonstration that salvation is monergistic: the same sovereign power that hardens Pharaoh hardens him unto destruction, while irresistibly drawing a fearful people to safety. Jesus is the greater Moses who not only leads us through the waters but actually enters the greater flood of God’s wrath for us, emerging victorious on the other side so that we walk through death dry-shod, clothed in His righteousness.

Reflection:

Exodus 14 is the pattern of every Christian’s biography.

•  We are constantly being hemmed in—pursued by the guilt of sin, the accusations of Satan, the hostility of the world, and the remnants of our own unbelief. In those moments the gospel sounds absurd (“Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord”), and faith feels like the most impractical thing imaginable.

•  Yet salvation always comes when we are stripped of every human resource. The Lord will not let us escape Egypt on our own terms; He waits until the chariots are bearing down so that no flesh may boast.

•  The Christian life is therefore a continual walking between walls of water—hearing the roar of judgment we once deserved, yet finding the ground firm beneath our feet because Christ has gone ahead. We look back and see our former tyrants (sin, death, the devil) drowned in the baptistery of the cross and empty tomb.
This fills us with the same song Israel will sing in chapter 15: awe at God’s power, terror at what we once were, and ever-deepening trust in the One who still says today, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord… The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 13)

Summary:

Exodus 13 contains two major divine ordinances given immediately after the exodus:

1.  The consecration of the firstborn: Every firstborn male (human and animal) belongs to the Lord because God spared Israel’s firstborn through the blood of the Passover lamb. The clean animals are to be sacrificed; unclean animals and humans are to be redeemed with a substitute.

2.  The Feast of Unleavened Bread: For seven days Israel must eat only unleavened bread and teach their children that this commemorates the night God brought them out “with a strong hand.”
The chapter closes with God leading Israel by the pillar of cloud by day and fire by night, deliberately taking them the long way around (via the Red Sea) rather than through Philistine territory, lest they turn back in fear.

Pointing to Jesus:

The consecration of the firstborn is a powerful gospel type. 

Israel’s firstborn were not spared because they were inherently better than Egypt’s; they were spared only because a lamb died in their place. 

Therefore, the spared firstborn now owe their very lives to Yahweh and must be either sacrificed or redeemed. 

This points directly to Christ, the true Firstborn who was not redeemed but actually sacrificed. Jesus is “the firstborn over all creation” (Col 1:15) and “the firstborn among many brothers” (Rom 8:29)—the unique Son who, instead of being bought back, was given over to death so that all the later-born sons God predestined to adopt (Eph 1:5) could be redeemed without cost. 

This is definite redemption in Old Testament dress: the firstborn are set apart as holy to the Lord because Another has borne the stroke of judgment in their stead. 

Every Christian is now a “firstborn son” (Heb 12:23) only because the true Firstborn was not spared.

Reflection:

Exodus 13 teaches us that redemption instantly creates obligation and identity.

•  We belong to God twice over: first by creation, second by costly redemption (1 Cor 6:19-20). The price paid at the cross means we no longer own ourselves; every day is a day of consecration.

•  We are a teaching people: the command to tell our children “This is because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt” becomes, for the Christian, a mandate to keep the story of the cross on our lips—at the dinner table, in family worship, in baptism, in the Lord’s Supper—so the next generation never forgets that our freedom was bought with blood.

•  We walk by pillar and fire: the visible, continual presence of God that both guides and guards us is now the indwelling Holy Spirit. God still refuses to lead us the easy way if it would destroy us. He will take us through Red Seas and wildernesses because sanctification, like justification, is by grace alone—and grace is often fierce. Yet every detour is governed by the same strong hand that once shattered Egypt, and the same cloud that hides us from our enemies now hides us in Christ until the final day when all the redeemed firstborn enter the inheritance forever.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 12)

Summary:

Exodus 12 records the institution of the Passover and the actual night of the tenth plague. 

God gives detailed instructions for the Passover meal: each household must take a year-old male lamb or goat without blemish, slaughter it at twilight, smear its blood on the doorposts and lintel, roast and eat the meat that same night with bitter herbs and unleavened bread, and be dressed ready to leave. 

At midnight the Lord strikes down every firstborn in Egypt, but He “passes over” every house marked with blood. 

The destroyer kills Pharaoh’s firstborn and devastates the land, prompting Pharaoh to summon Moses and Aaron in the night and expel the Israelites. 

The chapter ends with the Israelites departing Egypt after 430 years, taking unleavened dough and the wealth of the Egyptians, exactly as God promised.

Pointing to Jesus:

The Passover lamb is one of Scripture’s clearest types of Christ. 

Paul explicitly declares, “Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed” (1 Cor 5:7). 

The details are loaded with gospel precision:

•  The lamb must be without blemish → Christ is the sinless, spotless Lamb (1 Pet 1:19).

•  Its blood must be publicly applied to the door → salvation is not merely accomplished by Christ’s death but applied to particular people by faith alone.

•  The whole lamb must be eaten → believers must feed on Christ wholly and personally, not merely admire Him from afar.

•  Death comes to every house, but substitution spares the marked ones → either the firstborn dies, or a substitute dies in his place. Christ, as the elect’s federal head, dies in the place of all whom the Father gave Him, so that the angel of eternal death passes over them forever. The Passover is not a general offer that might save; it is God’s sovereign act of discriminating redemption that infallibly delivers every blood-marked house—just as Christ’s blood infallibly saves every sinner united to Him by sovereign grace.

Reflection:

Exodus 12 sets the rhythm of the entire Christian life. 

We are a people defined by the blood and perpetually on the move.

•  We live under the sign of the Lamb’s blood: every Lord’s Day we come again to the table, re-applying the finished work of Christ to our conscience, reminding ourselves and proclaiming to the world that our only safety is the once-for-all sacrifice already offered.

•  We eat with staff in hand and sandals on our feet: the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth (1 Cor 5:8) means we are constantly putting off remaining sin and living as pilgrims who do not belong to this Egypt-world.

•  We remember that our exodus is not yet complete. The night of deliverance was followed by 40 years of wilderness testing. So too, though we are definitively redeemed, we still groan in these bodies, awaiting the final exodus when death itself is swallowed up and we enter the true Promised Land in resurrection glory. Until then, the Passover shapes us into a people who fear God more than Pharaoh, trust the blood more than our feelings, and march forward under the cloud of His presence, singing, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain.”

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 11)

Summary:

In Exodus 11, God announces to Moses the tenth and final plague: the death of every firstborn in Egypt, from Pharaoh’s heir to the lowliest servant’s child, and even the firstborn of livestock. 

This plague will be so devastating that Pharaoh will finally drive the Israelites out. 

God instructs Moses to tell the people to ask their Egyptian neighbors for silver, gold, and clothing (which they willingly give, due to God’s favor on Moses). 

Moses delivers the warning to Pharaoh: at midnight, the Lord will pass through Egypt, and every firstborn will die—except in homes marked by the blood of the Passover lamb (foreshadowed here and detailed in ch. 12). 

Pharaoh’s heart remains hardened, and he refuses to listen.

Pointing to Jesus:

The announcement of the firstborn’s death directly foreshadows Christ as the ultimate Passover Lamb. 

Just as the destroyer “passed over” the Israelite homes marked by lamb’s blood, sparing their firstborn, so Christ’s blood shields God’s elect from the judgment of eternal death. 

This is a vivid picture of substitutionary atonement and definite redemption: the firstborn of Egypt die under God’s wrath, while Israel’s firstborn are redeemed by the death of a spotless substitute. 

Jesus, the true firstborn over all creation (Col. 1:15) and the only begotten Son, voluntarily takes the place of God’s chosen people, bearing the curse so that those united to Him by faith are delivered from the angel of death. 

The plague reveals that no one escapes God’s judgment except through the applied blood of the Lamb—a blood that does not merely cover sin temporarily but propitiates God’s wrath once for all.

Reflection:

Exodus 11 reminds believers that we live in a world still under the sentence of death because of sin, yet we have been marked by the blood of Christ. This gives us both sober warning and profound comfort. The same God who hardened Pharaoh’s heart for His glory and the salvation of His people is sovereign over every heart today—ours included. For the Christian, this chapter calls us to cling daily to the finished work of the Lamb, resting in the objective reality that judgment has already passed over us. It also stirs evangelistic urgency: apart from the blood of Jesus, every person remains exposed to the righteous wrath of God. Finally, it teaches us to live as redeemed exiles—plundering the world’s goods (as Israel took Egypt’s wealth) not for selfish gain, but as stewards of grace in a dying land, longing for the final exodus when Christ returns to lead us home.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 10)

Summary:

In Exodus 10, God sends Moses and Aaron to Pharaoh again, warning of the eighth plague: locusts that will devour all remaining vegetation if Israel is not released. 

Pharaoh’s servants urge him to relent, and he briefly negotiates, allowing only the men to go, but hardens his heart when God strengthens it. 

The locusts come, devastating Egypt’s crops, prompting Pharaoh to confess sin and plead for relief; God removes the plague, but Pharaoh refuses full release. 

God then announces the ninth plague: three days of palpable darkness covering Egypt (except Goshen, where Israel dwells in light). 

Pharaoh offers to let women and children go but not the livestock; Moses insists on taking all, leading Pharaoh to expel him with a death threat. 

God declares His signs are to demonstrate His sovereignty.

Pointing to Jesus:

The plague of darkness vividly prefigures Christ’s redemptive work as the Light of the World (John 8:12). 

This underscores total depravity and unconditional election: Egypt’s darkness symbolizes humanity’s spiritual blindness under sin’s dominion (Eph. 5:8; Rom. 3:10–12), from which none can escape by merit or will. 

Yet God sovereignly spares Israel in Goshen with light, illustrating irresistible grace—His elective mercy shining upon the chosen amid judgment. 

Jesus, the true Passover Lamb (1 Cor. 5:7), ultimately shatters this darkness through His atoning death and resurrection, effectually calling His elect out of sin’s night into marvelous light (1 Pet. 2:9), fulfilling God’s eternal decree of redemption.

Reflection:

Exodus 10 challenges believers to recognize God’s sovereign hardening of hearts (like Pharaoh’s) as a warning against presumption and a call to persevering faith amid trials. 

In daily life, it reminds us that partial obedience—offering God some but withholding all (as Pharaoh does with the livestock)—breeds rebellion; true worship demands total surrender, including our “flocks and herds” (resources, ambitions). 

The contrast of light in Goshen encourages trust in God’s protective providence during cultural or personal “plagues,” urging prayerful dependence on Christ to illuminate our path and empower full devotion.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 9)

Summary:

Exodus 9 records the fifth, sixth, and seventh plagues:

•  Livestock disease: God strikes every Egyptian animal in the field with a deadly pestilence; all Israel’s livestock in Goshen remain untouched. Pharaoh investigates and finds it true, yet hardens his heart.

•  Boils: Moses tosses soot skyward; festering boils break out on every Egyptian and magician (they cannot even stand before Pharaoh). The LORD hardens Pharaoh’s heart.

•  Hail: Moses stretches the rod; catastrophic hail, fire, and thunder devastate Egypt—crops, trees, people, and beasts caught outside. Goshen is spared. Some Egyptian officials now “fear the word of the LORD” and shelter their servants and livestock. Pharaoh falsely confesses (“I have sinned…the LORD is righteous”), begs relief, then hardens again when the storm stops exactly as Moses prayed.

Pointing to Jesus:

The repeated, explicit distinction between Egypt and Goshen (vv. 4, 6, 26) is the christological thunderclap.

 “I will put a division between My people and your people” is not arbitrary favoritism but a public display of unconditional election—God sovereignly sparing a people He has chosen in grace before they have done anything good or bad (Deut 7:7–8; Rom 9:11–13).

This division reaches its apex at the cross. 

Jesus is the ultimate Goshen: the place where the hail of divine wrath falls on Him so that it never touches the elect (Isa 53:4–6; Rom 8:1). 

The same sovereign hand that spared Israel’s livestock now spares Christ’s sheep because He was smitten in their place. 

Every spared flock in Goshen proclaims: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain…He has redeemed us to God by His blood out of every tribe” (Rev 5:9–12). 

The plagues are not random; they are billboards shouting particular redemption—Christ died to actually save His bride, not merely to make salvation possible for all.

Reflection:

Exodus 9 is a mirror for the half-repentant heart. 

Pharaoh’s confession—“I have sinned…the LORD is in the right”—sounds orthodox, yet it evaporates the moment pressure lifts. 

We are Pharaoh far more than we admit: quick to cry “Lord, Lord” in the hailstorm of consequence, quicker still to renegotiate when the sky clears.

Meanwhile, the chapter quietly spotlights the first cracks of true conversion among some Egyptian officials who “feared the word of the LORD” and obeyed. 

Gospel fruit often begins in unlikely soil—not in the palace, but among the servants who heed the warning.

For the believer, Goshen remains: you dwell under the blood-sprinkled lintel of Christ. 

When boils of affliction break out or hailstones of judgment pound the world, lift your eyes—the storm you deserve fell on Him. 

And when you feel the old Pharaoh-heart bargaining (“I’ll serve…just ease the pain first”), run to the true Moses who ever lives to intercede. 

He will pray, the sky will clear, and this time your heart will stay softened, because the Spirit who began the good work will complete it at the day of Jesus Christ (Phil 1:6).

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 8)

Summary:

Exodus 8 records the second, third, and fourth plagues:

•  Frogs: Aaron stretches out the rod, frogs swarm over the entire land, even into bedrooms and ovens. The magicians replicate the sign, but Pharaoh, desperate, begs Moses to pray for removal. Moses cries out to the LORD, the frogs die in massive heaps, creating a stench—yet once relief comes, Pharaoh hardens his heart again.

•  Gnats/Lice: Aaron strikes the dust; it becomes gnats on man and beast throughout Egypt. The magicians try to duplicate it but fail, confessing, “This is the finger of God.” Pharaoh remains unmoved.

•  Swarms of flies: Devastating swarms ruin the land—except the land of Goshen, where Israel lives. For the first time God explicitly distinguishes His people: “I will put a division between My people and your people” so that Pharaoh may know that Yahweh is Lord in the midst of the earth. Pharaoh offers false compromises (“sacrifice here in Egypt,” then “go, but not far”), Moses intercedes, the flies are completely removed the next day as God promised, and Pharaoh hardens his heart yet again.

Pointing to Jesus:

The pivotal christological moment in this chapter is God’s sovereign separation of Goshen: “But on that day I will set apart the land of Goshen…that you may know that I, the LORD, am in the midst of the earth. 

I will put a division between My people and your people” (vv. 22–23).

This is not incidental but a vivid Old Testament display of unconditional election and particular redemption. 

Before Israel has done anything good or bad, before they have believed or obeyed, God unilaterally marks out a people as His own treasured possession and shields them from the judgment falling on the world. 

This division is rooted solely in God’s free, eternal, distinguishing grace (Deut 7:6–8; Rom 9:11–16).

The ultimate fulfillment is Jesus Christ. 

He is the true Goshen, the true Place-Where-Judgment-Does-Not-Touch. 

On the cross the darkness and wrath that should have fallen on the elect fell instead on Him, so that no plague of final wrath can ever touch those who are in Christ (Rom 8:1; Rev 7:3; 9:4). 

The same sovereign hand that spared Goshen has, in the blood of the Lamb, eternally separated His chosen bride from the world that lies under judgment (Eph 1:4–5; 5:25–27; 1 Pet 2:9). 

Every plague that bypassed Israel shouts: “This people I formed for Myself…they shall be Mine, says the LORD of hosts, in the day when I make up My jewels” (Mal 3:17; cf. Titus 2:14). 

The division at the cross is infinitely greater than the division at Goshen.

Reflection:

Exodus 8 is a brutally realistic portrayal of what usually happens when we obey God: things often get worse before they get better. 

The frogs multiply, cover Pharaoh’s bed and kitchen, then die and stink to high heaven. 

Obedience brings a deeper experience of Egypt’s corruption before it brings deliverance. 

So it is with us—when we start saying no to sin and yes to holiness, the remaining corruption within us can feel more oppressive, the stench stronger, the battle fiercer.

Pharaoh’s repeated pattern of false repentance is the story of every half-converted heart that encounters the gospel: “I’ll let you go…just don’t go very far.” 

The world always offers compromise: serve your God, but stay respectable, stay comfortable, stay in Egypt. 

We are constantly tempted to negotiate with Pharaoh instead of marching out entirely.

Yet the sweetest note is Goshen. 

While the world rots under judgment, God’s people dwell in a place the flies cannot touch. 

Christian, you live in Goshen right now. The wrath is real, the judgment is falling all around, but you are distinguished, shielded, preserved—not because you are stronger or better, but because God has put a division between you and the world by the blood of His Son. When the stench feels overwhelming and Pharaoh’s latest offer sounds reasonable, lift your eyes to the greater Exodus: Jesus has already brought us out, and no plague formed against us can prosper. We are safe in Him, and one day soon He will remove even the last stinking heap of remaining sin forever.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 7)

Summary:

God renews His commission to Moses and Aaron: “I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, multiply My signs and wonders in Egypt…that the Egyptians may know that I am the LORD” (vv. 3–5). Moses (80) and Aaron (83) confront Pharaoh again. 

Aaron’s staff becomes a serpent (tannin), Pharaoh’s magicians duplicate the sign by their secret arts, but Aaron’s serpent swallows theirs—yet Pharaoh’s heart is hardened.

The first plague follows: at God’s command, Aaron stretches the staff over the Nile; all Egypt’s waters turn to blood, fish die, the river stinks, and Egyptians cannot drink. 

The magicians again replicate the sign on a smaller scale, so Pharaoh’s heart remains hard, exactly as God foretold. 

The plague lasts seven days.

Pointing to Jesus:

The entire plague cycle begins with the repeated, sovereign declaration: “I will harden Pharaoh’s heart…that I may multiply My signs and wonders…that you may know that I am the LORD.”

This is not an afterthought but the very purpose of the exodus: the display of God’s absolute dominion over proud rebels for the fame of His name and the salvation of His elect. 

Paul quotes Exodus 9:16 directly in Romans 9:17 to prove that God’s hardening of Pharaoh is an instance of His right to show mercy to whom He will and harden whom He will—all to make the riches of His glory known on the vessels of mercy prepared beforehand for glory (Rom 9:22–23).

That ultimate display of glory is Jesus Christ crucified. 

The same sovereign God who hardened Pharaoh to magnify His power in judgment now sovereignly softens elect sinners and hardens reprobate sinners so that the cross becomes either the fragrance of life to life or the aroma of death to death (2 Cor 2:15–16). 

The exodus plagues, beginning with blood, are judicial acts that proclaim: only the Lord saves, and He saves by blood—either the blood of judgment on His enemies or the blood of the Lamb on His people. 

Christ is the final, perfect exodus: the true Passover Lamb whose blood causes the destroying angel to pass over, and whose triumphant resurrection swallows up every counterfeit power of Satan (Col 2:15; Rev 12:11).

Reflection:

Exodus 7 is a chapter for discouraged witnesses. 

Moses and Aaron obey perfectly, perform undeniable miracles, yet Pharaoh’s heart only grows harder and the suffering of God’s people temporarily increases. 

This is the normal pattern of gospel ministry.

We proclaim Christ; demonic powers imitate and counterfeit; many hearts we expect to soften instead harden; opposition intensifies. 

Yet the chapter teaches us to keep our eyes not on immediate fruit but on the unbreakable divine purpose: “that they may know that I am the LORD.”

Our calling is not to produce results but to be faithful instruments while the sovereign Lord multiplies His signs exactly as He decreed before the foundation of the world. 

When our staffs are swallowed up by opposition or when the waters we strike only seem to turn to more bloody, we remember: the serpent has already been crushed, the true Blood has already been shed, and every hardened heart only serves to make the glory of the coming final exodus more magnificent. 

We walk on in obedience, not because Egypt repents, but because Yahweh will be known through the earth.