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.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 6)

Summary:

In Exodus 6, God responds to Moses’ discouragement by revealing Himself more fully as Yahweh (“I AM WHO I AM” / the LORD), distinguishing this covenant name from how He appeared to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as God Almighty (El Shaddai). 

He reaffirms His covenant promises, declaring that He has heard Israel’s groaning in Egyptian slavery and “remembered” His covenant. 

God then delivers seven majestic “I will” promises:

•  I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians,

•  I will deliver you from slavery,

•  I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and great judgments,

•  I will take you to be My people,

•  I will be your God,

•  I will bring you into the land I swore to give to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,

•  I will give it to you as a possession.

Moses relays this to the people, but they cannot listen because of their broken spirit and harsh bondage. 

Moses again objects, citing his “uncircumcised lips,” yet God recommissions him and Aaron, and the chapter includes a selective genealogy of Levi leading to Moses and Aaron to authenticate their calling.

Pointing to Jesus: 

The central redemptive heartbeat of the chapter is God’s sovereign declaration in verses 6–7: “I will redeem you with an outstretched arm…I will take you to be my people, and I will be your God.”

The exodus is not merely a historical deliverance but a typological foreshadowing of the eternal redemption accomplished by Christ under the one covenant of grace. 

The “outstretched arm” of Yahweh that redeems Israel from the slavery of Egypt prefigures the outstretched arms of Jesus Christ on the cross, by which He redeems His elect people from the far worse slavery of sin, Satan, and death (Col 2:15; Gal 4:4–5; Heb 2:14–15).

Just as Israel’s redemption was entirely monergistic—wholly the work of God’s mighty arm—so our redemption is solely by Christ’s blood and righteousness, not by human merit or effort (Eph 2:8–9; Rom 3:24). 

The promise “I will take you to be My people, and I will be your God” finds its ultimate fulfillment in the new covenant purchased by Christ’s outstretched arms, where the elect from every nation are made God’s treasured possession forever (Jer 31:33; 32:38–40; Rev 21:3).

Reflection:

Exodus 6 is profoundly encouraging for the discouraged believer. 

The Israelites could not receive God’s glorious promises because of anguish of spirit and cruel bondage—we too often cannot hear God’s word when trials crush us. 

Moses, the chosen mediator, feels utterly inadequate and keeps objecting—we too doubt our calling and usefulness when God commands us to speak or act.

Yet the chapter thunders one unshakable truth: God’s purposes and promises do not depend on our faith, obedience, or felt readiness—they rest on His own immutable character and sovereign power (“I am the LORD”).

In the Christian life, when oppression, failure, or spiritual dryness makes God’s word seem distant, we are to cling to the same redeeming God who always keeps His covenant, who redeemed us at infinite cost with outstretched arms on Calvary, and who will certainly bring us into the inheritance He swore to give us. 

Our discouragement never thwarts His plan; it only drives us to rest more fully in His doing, not ours.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 5)

Summary:

Moses and Aaron confront Pharaoh with God’s command: “Let my people go, that they may hold a feast to me in the wilderness.” 

Pharaoh defiantly refuses, declaring “I do not know the LORD,” and intensifies Israel’s oppression by denying them straw for brickmaking while maintaining the same quota. 

The Israelite foremen are beaten for failing to meet production, and when they appeal to Pharaoh, he mocks them as lazy. 

Bitter and disillusioned, the foremen blame Moses and Aaron for worsening their plight. 

Moses returns to God, confused and discouraged: “Why have you done evil to this people? 

Why did you ever send me?… You have not delivered your people at all.”

Pointing to Jesus:

The dramatic worsening of bondage immediately after the promise of deliverance typifies the pattern of Christ’s redeeming work. 

Pharaoh’s increased cruelty mirrors how sin and Satan rage most fiercely when redemption draws near (cf. Rev 12:13–17). 

God’s sovereign plan is not thwarted by apparent setback. The people’s suffering intensifies precisely because the elect Redeemer is now at work. Moses’ cry (“You have not delivered… at all”) parallels the disciples’ despair on Good Friday—“We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:21). 

Yet the darkest moment (increased burdens, beaten foremen, Moses’ complaint) is the prelude to the greatest display of sovereign grace. Just as Israel’s misery peaks before the Passover Lamb is slain, so humanity’s guilt and bondage reach their climax at the cross, where the true Moses, rejected by men and seemingly defeated, accomplishes eternal redemption for His elect (Heb 9:12; Rom 8:32–39).

Reflection:

Exodus 5 is a stark reminder that obedience to God’s call often makes things worse before they get better. 

Following the Lord can lead to misunderstanding, opposition, and intensified hardship—Pharaoh’s reaction is the world’s normal response to the gospel claim. 

Moses’ honest lament teaches us to bring our confusion and disappointment straight to God rather than abandoning the mission. 

The chapter warns against judging God’s faithfulness by immediate circumstances: deliverance is certain, but the timetable and pathway belong to the Sovereign who “makes everything beautiful in its time” (Eccl 3:11). 

For Christians facing workplace hostility, family rejection, chronic pain, or spiritual dryness after stepping out in faith, Exodus 5 says: “This is normal. The King is on the move, and the enemy knows it.” Our calling is to keep trusting the promise-keeping God who heard Israel’s groaning in chapter 2, commissioned Moses in chapter 3, and will not—cannot—fail to bring His elect safely out, no matter how dark the night between the promise and the plunder.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 4)

Summary:

Moses continues to resist God’s call, raising four more objections: lack of credibility, inability to speak, and general unwillingness. 

God responds with three signs (staff-to-serpent, leprous hand, water-to-blood) to authenticate Moses’ mission, promises to teach him what to say, and finally appoints Aaron as Moses’ spokesman. 

Reluctantly, Moses returns to Midian, asks Jethro’s permission, and departs with his wife and sons. 

On the way, the Lord meets Moses and seeks to kill him (likely because Gershom was uncircumcised); Zipporah circumcises their son, averting judgment. 

Moses meets Aaron in the wilderness, and together they return to Egypt, gather the elders, perform the signs, and the people believe and worship.

Pointing to Jesus:

The cryptic encounter in verses 24–26—where “the LORD met him and sought to put him to death” until Zipporah applies the blood of circumcision—foreshadows substitutionary atonement and the absolute necessity of shed blood for covenant relationship. 

Moses, the chosen mediator, is himself under divine wrath for neglecting the covenant sign (Gen. 17:14). 

Only the cutting and blood of his son averts death. 

This points to Christ, the true Mediator who does not merely apply another’s blood but offers His own. 

Reflection:

Exodus 4 confronts us with the tension between God’s sovereign call and our persistent reluctance. 

Moses, face-to-face with the I AM, still argues five times—“Who am I?”, “What shall I say?”, “They won’t believe”, “I’m not eloquent”, “Send someone else”—and God’s final response is anger (v. 14). 

Yet God does not revoke the call; He accommodates Moses’ weakness by giving Aaron. 

This is both warning and comfort. 

Warning: our excuses, even when rooted in genuine weakness, displease God and limit our usefulness (Aaron later leads in the golden-calf disaster). 

Comfort: God’s purposes do not depend on our eloquence or courage; He sovereignly provides what we lack (Aaron, signs, words). 

For the Christian, this means we obey not because we feel adequate, but because the One who calls is faithful. And when we stumble—even when our neglect invites divine discipline (as with the circumcision incident)—the blood of Jesus, our circumcised Substitute (Col. 2:11–12), speaks a better word than the blood of Gershom, turning away wrath and restoring us to covenant fellowship. The chapter invites us to move from “Send someone else” to “Here am I; send me,” trusting that the God who equips Moses in spite of Moses will carry us through every reluctant step.

Pointing to Jesus (Exodus 3)

Summary:

While tending Jethro’s flock in Midian, Moses encounters God at the burning bush on Mount Horeb. 

The bush burns but is not consumed, prompting Moses to turn aside. 

God reveals Himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, declares His awareness of Israel’s suffering, and commissions Moses to deliver His people from Egypt. 

Moses objects repeatedly (“Who am I…?”, “What is Your name?”, “They will not believe me”), but God answers with the name “I AM WHO I AM” (YHWH), promises miraculous signs, and assures Moses of His presence. 

The chapter ends with God foretelling Pharaoh’s refusal and the eventual plundering of Egypt.

Pointing to Jesus:

The central Christological pointer is the divine name “I AM WHO I AM” (YHWH) and God’s declaration “I will be with you” (v. 12). 

In John 8:58, Jesus explicitly applies this eternal “I AM” to Himself (“Before Abraham was, I am”), identifying Himself as the covenant God of Exodus 3. 

This reveals the absolute sovereignty and self-existence of God in redemption: salvation is grounded not in human ability (Moses repeatedly protests his inadequacy) but in the unchanging, self-sufficient being of God who decrees and accomplishes deliverance by His own power. 

The same “I AM” who later says to Moses “I will be with your mouth” (Exod. 4:12) is the One who, in the fullness of time, became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14), securing the redemption of the elect by His own blood—apart from any human merit or cooperation (Eph. 1:3–7; Titus 3:5).

Reflection:

Exodus 3 teaches that God meets us in the wilderness and calls us by sovereign grace, not because of our qualifications. 

Moses was an 80-year-old fugitive shepherd—yet the holy God singled him out at an ordinary bush and transformed it into holy ground. 

For believers, this means every mundane moment (a daily commute, a hospital room, a season of failure) can become sacred when the great I AM speaks. Our instinctive response, like Moses’, is often fear and self-disqualification (“Who am I?”), but God’s answer is never about our sufficiency; it is always “I will be with you.” The Christian life is therefore lived in continual dependence on the presence of the One who is eternally self-existent, who calls us not to self-confidence but to God-confidence, and who equips the called rather than calling the equipped. When we feel most inadequate for the tasks set before us—parenting, witnessing, suffering, serving—we can hide in the unshakable promise: the eternal I AM is with us, and that is enough.