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.