Here’s my longer sermon notes from this morning’s Metro Christian Centre service (dated 12th May 2024), session ten in our series journeying through the book of Exodus.
You can also catch up with this via MCC’s YouTube channel (just give us time to get the video uploaded).
‘What would you think if I sang out of tune? |
Would you stand up and walk out on me?’—The Beatles, With A Little Help From my Friends
ORDINARILY
So far, in Exodus, we’ve had some pretty big scenes. The past ten chapters were a rollercoaster of epic action: plagues; the parting of the sea; bitter water made drinkable at Marah; the miraculous provision of quail and manna (also known as, ‘what-is-it?’ bread)[i]. In Exodus 17, there has been water from a rock (Ex. 17:1-7), along with a battle sequence (Ex. 17:8-16).
Beyond this chapter, in Exodus 19, we hit the dramatic again, with this Divine encounter on Mount Sinai—which we’ll come to in a couple of weeks.
It’s all the stuff of great movie scenes.
But, in Exodus 18, like an ad’ break, there’s nothing ‘amazing’, nowt ‘spectacular’ or ‘dramatic’, so to speak. It’s all fairly, well, mundane and everyday.
We get this snap-shot into a day in the life of Moses and the Hebrews who have escaped Egypt; a snapshot that seems so out of place with all the dramatic events that surround it in the text.
It seems unusual, because it is so usual.
And yet, when we think about it, the vast majority of daily life would have looked more mundane than spectacular.
As we flick through the pages of scripture, Abraham and Sarah, Moses, David, Ruth, Esther, Paul, etc., all had tremendous moments, exciting experiences that we can read about. Outside of those recorded events, though they had many more ordinary days. Days making tents, guarding grazing flocks, gleaning fields… Days filled with chores, conversations, silence, work, play, rest, followed by more chores … normal life.
That’s not to say that God wasn’t involved. God is present in their waking and sleeping, their going out and their coming in. In the everyday, they practiced being faithful to God in the ordinary.
For some of us, though, maybe all of us, we can risk getting hung up on the spectacular. This is a problem, because, for most of us, our lives look more mundane than spectacular. We have more uneventful days than eventful ones, and so we may wrongly conclude that we are ‘lacking’ in some experience of God.
I lead a fairly mundane life. My life is not being turned into a Hollywood blockbuster or bestselling novel. People do not want to read about Tristan getting 30% off a big shop item, or how Tristan washed some dishes. But this doesn’t mean God hasn’t been present, or that God hasn’t done something significant even when things are so routine. The extraordinary God is found in the ordinary moments of every day life.
Regrettably, I’m not always aware of this, of course. It’s too easy to reduce God to only being in the things that give us goosebumps. But whether our days our filled with changing nappies, traffic jams, or revising for exams—all of it matters. It’s in those everyday things, those things we too easily demean as “insignificant”, that God shapes our characters the most.
Like I said, there’s nothing “miraculous” in the passage we are just about to read. There is no mention of quails, no waters parting, no thundering voice from heaven. It’s just human interaction— family meetings; meals; administration …
Maybe this is one of the challenges of this passage.
In the passage after this, Moses, along with the people of Israel, are going to hear God speak (20:9), as God descends in a thick cloud on the mountain. But, do we still hear God when it doesn’t come in the spectacular through a direct voice, and instead it comes in the ordinary, through the people we are in relationship with? Like in this passage, when Moses listens to his Father-in-law?
There have been many people who have claimed to hear from God, but who have been unable to hear from others and unwilling to be accountable to others. So, I doubt they were hearing from God at all! We should be able to listen to those who love us, know us and care for us when they speak into our lives. We can’t just brush it off, saying, ‘well, God’s not said that to me personally’. We need to prayerfully and humbly consider it.
With that in mind, let’s read Exodus 18 …
READ: EXODUS 18 (NIV)
FAMILY REUNIONS?
Last weekend I had the pleasure of being with some of my family. My niece got married on the ‘bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond’, Scotland. It was a beautiful occasion, in a beautiful setting, and it did my heart good to be reunited with loved ones and long known friends that I haven’t seen for a long time.
Not all reunions are so beautiful, however. Not all families get on all of the time. Some reunions can be explosive. There can be resentments and grudges, old wounds and past pains that resurface with reunions, times when embraces are replaced with brawls.
In Exodus 18, and in the second half of Exodus 17, Moses and the Hebrew people encounter their relatives.
At the back end of Exodus 17, they encounter their distant cousins, the Amalekites. Israel’s ancestor, Jacob, had a brother called Esau who had a grandson called Amalek (Gen. 36:12, 15-16).
In a nutshell, the story of Jacob and Esau is the classic tale of sibling rivalry—prompted by Jacob more than Esau. Prior to his own wrestle with God, Jacob lives up to his name: he is someone who ‘grasps the heal’, clutching at all he can to get ahead.
Jacob dupes his own brother out of his birthright and his Father’s blessing, taking advantage of both his brother’s and father’s shortcomings. Personally, he is not the kind of brother I would want. But, by the end of their story, peace is made, gifts are exchanged, grace is shown (more by Esau than Jacob), and the rivalry dissolves into a mutual embrace (Gen. 33).
All seems settled.
Except, old wounds have a knack of recurring in the generations that follow.
As time passes, Esau’s ancestors still seem to hold a grudge towards Jacob’s ancestors for the harm Jacob caused. In Exodus 17, as Israel are on their journey toward Sinai, the Amalekites ambush them.
In Deuteronomy, we’re given a little extra detail about this attack. The Amalekite raiders were specifically targeting the people who were lagging behind, those who were the weakest, the slowest, the most exhausted and the most vulnerable (Deut. 25:17-18).
It’s not a great family reunion, is it?
It’s a cowardly ambush—Amalek see a weakness, and they plunder it, taking advantage of Israel’s shortcomings. [ii]
In chapter 18, we get another family reunion.
Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro visits. Jethro also brings Moses’ wife and children with him, too.
Jethro is a Midianite—another distant cousin of Israel’s. Abraham, after his wife Sarah died, married a woman called Keturah. One of their sons was Midian (Gen. 25:1).
Midian and Israel also have an ugly history with skeletons in the closest.
In Genesis 37, it’s some Midianite traders, along with some Ishmaelites (other relatives of Israel), who sell Joseph, Jacob’s son, into slavery to Egypt (Gen. 37:25-28, 36).[iii] The Exodus story, in a sense, has its roots in that one act. They’re not solely to blame, of course. Nine of Joseph’s brothers were also involved and to blame.[iv]
I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed this when reading the Bible, but families can be really messed up.
As I once remember reading, Genesis presents the creation of the universe as a simple task for God. Getting humanity to relate to each other, however, is something else.
So there’s a history between Midian and Israel, just like there is between Amalek and Israel.
More than this, there’s a history between Moses and Jethro.
We have not heard from Jethro since Exodus 4, when Moses asks for his father-in-law’s consent and blessing to go back to Egypt. When you read the text, Moses isn’t exactly truthful about why he’s going back. He doesn’t tell Jethro that he’s off to challenge Pharaoh; he mentions nothing, from what we know, of God’s call to him to lead the Hebrews out of Egyptian brutality; he omits any details about how dangerous this could be. The text simply tells us that,
Moses went back to Jethro his father-in-law and said to him, “Let me return to my own people in Egypt to see if any of them are still alive.” (Ex. 4:18, NIV)
That’s one way of putting it, I suppose…
On top of this, this passage gives us some ‘juicy’ news we hadn’t been aware of. Even though Moses had originally set off for Egypt with his wife and sons (Ex. 4:20), at some point, he ‘sent them back’ to Jethro.
This ‘sending back’ has been debated for many years, and could mean Moses sent his family back for safety’s sake. On the other hand, the Hebrew language could mean that that Moses had divorced Zipporah and sent her, with their children, back to Jethro, along with her dowry.[v]
One way or another, Jethro has some reasons to be a tad upset with Moses, especially after the hospitality he showed Moses for forty years. Jethro has got things he could aim in Moses’ direction.
Additionally, like the Amalekite raiders, when Jethro arrives, he too notices a weakness, a shortcoming and a vulnerability he could take advantage off.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, Jethro rejoices, blesses, encourages, advises and supports.
Two meetings. Two sets of relatives. Two different responses. One takes advantage and exploits a weakness. The other seeks to strengthen what is weak.
I will get to Jethro’s advice. But before we think about needing others in our own lives, the question I’m pressed with is this: What am I like in the lives of others?
Am I the kind of person who takes advantage of someone else’s weaknesses?
Do I gloat at the failures of others?
When people I disagree with stumble, am I waiting to seize my opportunity to finish them off?
Am I holding things against people that causes me to resent them, hindering me from rejoicing with them and blessing them?
When my enemies, or someone I am miffed with is weary and exhausted, would I bring them a glass of water? And not from a motive for looking better than them, but because I genuinely care for their welfare?
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be surrounded by people who are seeking to take advantage.
I’m not a perfect person, by any means—I’m still in process. But being able to point out my failings and weaknesses does not make you a friend. Any critic can do it (I could give you a list of my shortcomings if it would help?). I don’t want to be that kind of person in the life of anyone else. It’s simply not Christ-like.
Like other non-Israelites we’ve met in this Exodus journey (see here), Jethro demonstrates the heart and face of God in this story.
I’m reminded of how Isaiah describes God; ‘He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.’ (Isa. 40:29).
When Matthew describes Jesus, God incarnate, he plucks up the words of Isaiah too, and describes Jesus as, ‘someone who is gentle, who will not shout and raise his voice in public. He will not crush those who are weak or quench the smallest hope.’ (Isa. 42:2-3; Matt. 12:15-21).
Would people describe you and me the same way?
Think about what you are like with your family, friends, colleagues and enemies.
What are you like on Facebook, or other social media platforms? How much shouting and ranting do you do in public with the intention of shaming someone, or knocking them down a peg or two, or to show why you are right and they are wrong?
Again, it’s easy to be a critic. It’s easy to point out the failings of other people. It’s so easy, you can do it en masse—it costs you nothing, and you can find the time and energy to criticise people all day long.
But friendship, true friendship, cannot be done en masse. It demands and costs too much from us. Like the Samaritan in Jesus’ famous parable, true care comes at our cost not the cost of the other. It’s one on one, and measured in years rather than how long it takes to tap out a comment on social media.
For that reason, I only really have a few close friends, a few ‘Jethros’ in my life (and even then, I don’t get enough time with them). But they’re the people I can walk with and talk with most honestly, and who are able to speak honestly and helpfully into my own life.
So what are you like with those around you?
Do people welcome you in, as Jethro is welcomed, or do people find themselves fending you off, like Amalek?
GOOD NEWS
Moses is happy to see Jethro. He welcomes him into his tent, and shares with Jethro the full version of everything that has happened—about how the Lord, how Yahweh, has rescued them from Egypt.
Moses doesn’t mention anything of his involvement (‘I did this, I did that’). Rather, he talks only about what God had done to set them free.
Moses is basically sharing the gospel; declaring the might saving acts of God.
We get this stunning scene where Jethro responds to this ‘good news’. Jethro rejoices and worships the Lord:
‘He said, “Praise be to the Lord, who rescued you from the hand of the Egyptians and of Pharaoh, and who rescued the people from the hand of the Egyptians. Now I know that the Lord is greater than all other gods…”’
(Ex. 18:10-11a, NIV)
We don’t know much about what kind of priest Jethro is. There is a good chance that, due to his culture and time in history, that he is someone who thought there were many gods (a henotheist, rather than a monotheist), and that Yahweh was merely one among the many so-called “gods” that existed.
But, here, even though Jethro still hasn’t come to the conclusion that there is one God, he acknowledges that Yahweh is supreme—that the Lord is unrivalled in his greatness.
It may not be the confession we’d expect today, but in its time, Jethro is light years ahead. Maybe, dare I say it, even ahead of some of the Israelites who will, later on in this Exodus story, ask Aaron to build them a god(s) that they can worship (Ex. 32:1).
Jethro realises that there is no one like the Lord. He has no rival or equal. His name is higher than all others. As such, Jethro gives his allegiance, his trust—or, in words we’re used to, he places his faith in the Lord. And he shows this by taking the lead in offering a sacrifice to God, and inviting others to a communal feast of celebration.
We haven’t got to sacrifices yet![vi] This is not some sacrifice for sin, atonement, or to say ‘sorry’. And neither is this a sacrifice to bribe or appeal to a god to do something—like you find in other ancient cultures. These sacrifices, as all Israel’s sacrifices would be, are about celebrating and remembering what God had already done. God had already acted towards them. God had already rescued them.
This burnt offering, Jethro offers, along with the other sacrifices he offers, symbolise humanity and God eating together, reclining together, dwelling together.
We’ll come back to this later in this series.
What’s striking is that it’s a Midianite, not an Israelite that does this.[vii]
It’s a well-placed reminder in Exodus that this story is not exclusively about God and Israel. Yes, God has chosen to do something with Israel, to show something through them. But, ultimately, this something is about God’s desire for all of humanity to know him, to trust him and to eat with him in his presence.
Exodus is not the conclusion of that great story, either. The cross and resurrection of Jesus is. It’s the Exodus that comes through His life, death and resurrection that we are to declare. As Jesus said it, “when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself.” (Jn. 12:32)
Again, what are we like with those around us, do we speak of God’s mighty saving acts?
I am not on about trying to crowbar the good news into every conversation or meeting. But, when invited to share, like Jethro invites Moses, are we ready to talk about what God has accomplished in Jesus?
DELEGATION’S WHAT YOU NEED
What Jethro hears brings him great joy.
What Jethro sees is another matter entirely.
Jethro gets to spend some time around the Israelite camp and observes that Moses sits all day, giving judgement, while all the people of Israel are queuing all day long, from morning to evening, to speak to him.
That’s a long time. I remember queuing up for a ride at Alton Tower’s theme park for forty minutes in the hot sun—that was long enough. But a full day! In the heat of the Sinai dessert! Wow.
Jethro can see that this is wearing Moses out, and that it’s also wearing the people out.
The Hebrew verb, Jethro uses, in Ex. 18:18, is the word to ‘wither’. Today we may say, ‘burnout’.
Jethro’s verdict is that this is ‘not good (lo tov, in Hebrew).’
Admittedly, this passage has often been used to explain the need for delegation. And there’s nothing wrong with that application—it’s a correct and an important application. Leaders need to delegate. Moses needs to learn that, too. Not only for his sake, but also for the sake of everyone else.
Especially if we can remember what Egypt was like.
In Egypt, if you wanted to know the will of the gods, you would line up all day to speak with Pharaoh. And here’s Moses, playing at being Pharaoh. Although he’s not placing burdens of labour upon the Israelites and placing them in slavery, he is wearing them out all the same, causing them to wither and wilt.
If you want to think about it in another sense, Jethro coming to Moses is like when Moses went to Pharaoh, saying, ‘let my people go!’
Now I’m not saying Moses has an ego. He’s just practicing a form of leadership that he learnt in Egypt when he lived there. But God didn’t rescue Israel from Egypt in order to create Egypt 2.0.
God is trying to push Moses and this community into a different direction. God doesn’t want a dictator, or a King for that matter, who keeps power to himself and who never dwells with the people because they’re too busy sitting over the people. Rather, God is wanting to create a community where God is the centre, where God dwells with his people, where everyone has access to him.
In the next chapter, God pronounces what is his mission statement to this newly born nation: He will make them a kingdom of priests (Ex. 19:6).
This is a remarkable statement. In the ancient world, every nation had its priests and holy men. Jethro was a Midianite priest. Melchizedek, in Genesis, was priest of Salem. But Israel was to be unique in that everyone was to be a priest.
This advice from Jethro is a significant decentralisation of power.[viii] If you want to do the math, it means that 1 in in every 8 adults was expected to take on some form of mentoring and caring role.
In other words, the people are to take care of each other. Or, as Paul would put it in the New Testament, ‘Carry one another’s burdens.’ (Gal. 6:2)
And this makes sense, because then everyone grows. Not only that, but, as C. S. Lewis once described it, students can help other students better than teachers can: ‘The fellow-pupil can help more than the master because [the fellow-pupil] knows less.’[ix]
Let me explain.
Moses knows a lot—he has had experiences that the people probably can’t comprehend. But, in many ways, that makes him the worse candidate to help.
Have you ever noticed that people who know more than you, or who claim to have experienced more than you, or had a ‘deeper’ revelation to you, can tend to be impatient, indifferent, demeaning, strict, and totally irreverent to where you are at and what you are struggling with? That they are so full of their grandeur that they are unable to come to us at our level, meet us where we are at, and see things from our perspective.
Moses, as experienced as he is, is still not one of the people. He’s sitting over them. He’s listening to them every day, from morning to evening, but he’s not hearing them because he’s not dwelling with them. He’s not even dwelling with his own wife and kids before Jethro turns up!
Without empathy, he is no good for the people. The people, however, can help each other, and Moses needs to learn to be one of them.
This is not to say that Moses doesn’t have a ‘special call’. But that ‘special call’ does not exempt him from being part of the people. God may be sacred, but God is not a secret to monopolise.
As way of example: When the people come to Moses in the beginning of Exodus 17, complaining about the lack of water, Moses shouts at them to be quiet and accuses them of arguing with him (Ex. 17: 1-2). But they are not arguing. They’re tormented by thirst. That’s a big difference, a difference God understands better than Moses does.
Thank God, that when God came in the flesh, he came as one of us. That God entered into our condition, into our suffering. We see this in Christ. But Moses already witnessed this revelation is the burning bush—that God shared in the desolation and suffering of the people in Egypt (see here).
Moses needs to learn co-suffering love.
Yes, Jethro tells Moses that he should continue to tell and teach the people God’s commands (Ex. 18:20), but he also tells Moses to show the people. This is Jethro’s subtle way of saying, ‘get your backside off your chair, and start being with the people, where they are.’ It could also be Jethro’s way of saying, ‘instead of advising people on how their marriages look, go and actually be a husband to your wife and a father to your kids.’
NOT GOOD
So, yes, this passage is about delegation. But it’s about more than that. It’s not just a passage written to so-called “leaders”. It speaks to the basic human need of all of us.
Again, Jethro describes what he sees as ‘not good.’ As the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks pointed out, ‘This is one of only two instances in the whole Torah in which the words lo tov, “not good”, appear. The other is in Genesis 2:18, where God says, “It is not good [lo tov] for man to be alone.” We cannot lead alone. We cannot live alone.’[x]
This isn’t the only echo of Genesis in Exodus 18, and all these echoes remind us of our fundamental need of other people.[xi]
Jonathan Sacks goes on to point out that the Hebrew word for life (ḥayim), is in the plural, ‘as if to signify that life is essentially shared.’
We need others.
We may think we need to struggle on by ourselves.
Maybe, we don’t like to be a fuss. Or, we don’t feel entitled to the help.
Sometimes we go it alone because we want to succeed by ourselves, because if we don’t, we feel it isn’t a real success.
Sometimes, we are too wrapped up in our own sense of self-importance, thinking we don’t need anyone else.
Sometimes, we wrongly think that ‘me and God’ is all that is needed. But this isn’t God’s desire, nor is it God’s design.
There’s a famous African proverb that states, ‘If you want to fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.’
At my niece’s wedding, Pastor Oli, from The Rock Community Church, Dumbarton, reminded me about the beginning of a computer game I love. Back in 1986, Nintendo released the original The Legend of Zelda video game on the Nintendo Entertainment System. As the story begins, Link, the main character, enters a cave to meet an old man who offers Link a wooden sword and says, ‘Take this, it’s too dangerous to go alone!’
Even though The Legend of Zelda wasn’t around in Jethro’s time, I would like to think that he would use the analogy to get through to Moses.
Without others, it’s not that we risk burning out. The biggest danger, as Jethro’s Hebrew puts it, is that we wither: We cannot grow, we turn inward, and we slowly decay.
I don’t know if you have noticed, but positive things tend to rarely occur in solitude. When was the last time you laughed out loud? When was the last time you felt indescribable joy? The last time you sensed profound meaning and purpose? I bet all of them took place with other people.
I’m saying all of this as an introvert, by the way.
We all need others in our lives. No matter how ‘godly’ or ‘spiritual’ we think we are. Moses, in the Bible, is one the greatest prophets. But he’s still human. And through Jethro, he is reminded that humans are social creatures, that he needs to end his isolation, that he needs mates.
There are many themes in this passage, but one of them is the reminder that faith is a redemption from solitude. Faith is about relationships – between us and God, us and our family, us and our neighbours, us and humanity, us and our enemies. Christian life is not about the lonely soul. It is about the bonds that bind us to one another and to God the Father, through Christ the Son.
The concept of self-reliance is foreign to the Christian faith. We are created to need God and others. We are designed for interdependence and community.
No special ‘call’ from God, no amount of spectacular experiences, and no ‘special revelation’, gets any of us off the hook.
Moses’ story contains an echo of our own need, a need we seldom realise in the midst of the spectacular, but that we become acutely aware of in the ordinary.
Jesus, in John 17, just before going to the cross, prayed a really powerful prayer. It’s a prayer that puts the crucifixion into a greater context. A prayer that captures God’s heart for your life and mine. Jesus doesn’t pray that we would be become hermits, lone rangers, or superior beings. His prayer, and part of what his work on the cross is to accomplish, is that we will be one.
The Lord certainly has no rival or equal, to paraphrase Jethro’s celebratory declaration. However, even God understood and recognised our need for each other.
‘I pray that they will all be one, just as you and I are one’
– Jesus, John 17:21a (NLT)
END NOTES:
[i] Manna comes from the Aramaic and Greek translations. The Hebrew phrasing is merely mān, and comes from Ex. 16:15 and 31, where the people see this flaky residue in the morning and ask each other, ‘mān hû’?’, ‘What is it?’
[ii] In other words, they were paying back, in kind, their ancestor Jacob by attacking and plundering the ‘heal’ of this travelling column of Jacob’s ancestors, clutching what they could to get ahead. This was retribution, and the Amalekites sought to inflict this retribution by giving Jacob’s people a taste of Jacob’s medicine. I don’t point this out to endorse Amalek in any way at all. This action is wrong, just like Jacob’s original actions were also wrong. I point this connection out merely to highlight the cyclic nature of revenge. Retribution does not heal such wounds, only reconciliation can do that.
[iii] Genesis 37 has always caused some debate over the identity of the Midianites and Ishmaelites. Midian was descended from Keturah, and Ishmael was descended from Hagar. They are two differing sets of people, who both share a common ancestry with Abraham. Yet, Genesis 37 uses the terms ‘Midianite’ and ‘Ishmaelite’ interchangeably to describe the traders who bought Joseph from his brother and sold Joseph into Egypt. It’s not the only text to do so, either. Judges 8 (verses 22, 24, 28) does the same, leaving us to wonder if Gideon is fighting the descendants of Midian or the descendants of Ishmael? Of course, a simply solution to this is to see them both as nomadic tribes who travelled and worked so closely together that, in time, the two clans were compounded together. As such, ‘Ishmaelite’ and ‘Midianite’ become terms describing more than a particular clan, but a confederation of nomadic peoples. For example, in Judges 7, which leads up to the scenes described in Judges 8, we are told that Gideon is facing the armies of Midian (v. 1). Later in the passage, we are told that this identity of Midian is actually a federation of clans, ‘Midian, Amalek and the people of the east…’ (v.11-12).
[iv] If you read the account, Reuben was away when his brothers met the Ishmaelite and Midian traders. Whereas Benjamin, from the overarching context of the story, was still young and back home with his father, Jacob.
[v] With regards to the idea of divorce, H. Junia Pokrifka has noted (and she’s certainly not alone in doing so) that Exodus 18:2 literally reads, ‘Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law, took Zipporah, Moses’s wife, with (‘aḥar) her dowry (ŝillûḥîm / shiluḥim).’ Commenting on this, Pokrifka states, ‘The Hebrew term ŝillûḥîm is used in two other places in the OT and is correctly rendered ‘dowry’ (in 1 Kgs 9:16 ESV, NASB, NJB, NJPS, NRSV) or ‘parting gifts’ (in Micah 1:14). The fact that Moses sent Zipporah and her dowry back to Jethro implies that Moses had divorced her. [H. Junia Pokrifka, Exodus: A Commentary in the Wesleyan Tradition, New Beacon Bible Commentary (Beacon Hill Press, Kansa City, MO, 2018), p. 198 ]
The modern commentator, Robert Alter, disagrees with the above, but doesn’t actually state his reasons for why shiluḥim should not be understood as divorce in this sense. Alter, instead, prefers to see Moses sending back as a matter of his family’s safety. [Robert Alter, The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary, Volume 1, The Five Books of Moses (W. W. Norton, London, 2019), pp. 286-287.
Robert Alter, along with others, prefers the tact taken by the medieval, 11th century, Rabbi Rashi, who proposed an alternative reason for Zipporah’s return. In Midrashic interpretaion, Rashi stated that their parting took place on the way, following the encounter with Aaron. Rashi imagines the scene as follows: ‘When God said to him in Midian, (Exodus 4:19, 20) “Go, return to Egypt … and Moses took his wife and his sons etc. … and Aaron went forth towards him and met him at the Mount of God”, he (Aaron) said to him, “Who are these?” He answered him, “This is my wife whom I married in Midian and these are my children”. He, thereupon, asked him, “Whither are you taking them?” He replied, “To Egypt”. Where-upon he said to him, “We have cause to grieve over the former ones (the Israelites already there), and you propose to add to their number!” Moses therefore said to her, “Return to your father’s house” — she took her two sons and went away.’ (Mekhilta d’Rabbi Yishmael 18:2)
Still, other theories see Zipporah’s sending back being connected to her response to Moses as a ‘blood-smeared bridegroom’ in Exodus 4:25, suggesting she was disgusted by such a ritual. No major commentary I have come across (so far) has suggested this. However, Zipporah’a apparent disgust with circumcision has certainly done the rounds in some circles, giving birth to other ideas regarding her separation. Duane A. Garrett takes issue with Zipporah’s disgust with circumcision in his, A Commentary on Exodus (Kregel Exegetical Library).
Personally, the text doesn’t give us any background on the motivations for the separation or when it occurred. All we can do is speculate. Still, the mention of dowry (often glossed over in the English translations), does give much food for thought.
[vi] Although… there are many reasons to believe that Exodus 18 occurs out-of-sync chronologically, and that this event actually happens beyond the remaining chapters of Exodus, after the laws have been given and the Tabernacle is functioning. As Christopher J. H. Wright points out [Christopher J. H. Wright, The Story of God Bible Commentary: Exodus (Zondervan Academic, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 2021), footnote 12, p. 327:
- The last recorded camp stop is at Rephidim (17:1), and the next travel note records them travelling from Rephidim to the mountain in the desert of Sinai (19:1). In chapter 18, we are told that Jethro meets them near the mountain of God (18:5), but Israel don’t arrive there until Exodus 19.
- After the group hug, the text indicates, literally, that they enter the tent. Moses’s tent is often assumed, and it may suggest the one later set up for Moses’ meetings with God at and after Sinai, prior to the building of the tabernacle (Ex. 33:7-11). Of course it could also be that Exodus 33 is also ahead of its place chronologically. In which case, this would be the tabernacle.
- Moses is teaching ‘God’s decrees and laws’ (v. 16), which were not received until the Mount Sinai encounter.
This may seem an odd maneuverer, for us: Why tell things out of sequence? But this is not unique in the Scriptures and many commentators are comfortable with the writers of scripture focusing more on thematic emphases than chronology. In this case, the theme, as Robert Alter suggests, could be the contrast between war with Amalek and peace with Midian (Jethro) [Robert Alter, The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary, Volume 1, The Five Books of Moses (W. W. Norton, London, 2019), note 5, p. 287]. Alternatively, I suggest that the echoes of Genesis 2 (see later endnote) could precursor/elude to the forthcoming marriage between God and the people of Israel through the sharing of covenant at on the mountain and the preparation of a tent for God to ‘dwell’ in. Additionally, as per the previous endnote, the return of Zipporah to Moses marks a re-marriage. This too, thematically, ties with the next phase of Exodus, prefiguring the marriage to follow, and foreshadowing God’s sovereign purposes with all humanity.
[vii] In many ways, Jethro has similarities to Melchizedek:
- Jethro was a non-Israelite, a priest of Midian (Ex. 2:16; 18:1). Melchizedek was a non-Israelite, and priest of Salem (Gen. 14:18)
- Jethro came to Moses after a military victory (Ex. 14; 17:8-16). Melchizedek came to Abram after a military victory (Abram rescued Lot from Kedorlaomer’s army, Gen. 14:14–16)
- Jethro came to Moses before God made a covenant with his people (Ex. 19–24). Melchizedek came to Abram before God made a covenant with Abram (Gen. 15)
- Jethro blessed God for delivering Israel from their enemies (Ex. 18:10). Melchizedek blessed God for delivering Abram from his enemies (Gen. 14:19-20).
- Jethro prepared a meal of thanksgiving, involving bread and, I imagine, wine to drink, as customary (Ex. 18:12). Melchizedek brought out bread and wine (Gen. 14:18).
This is not to say that Jethro is Melchizedek. Rather, as a theme within the scriptures, this blessing from non-Israelite priests reminds us of God’s sovereign purposes beyond Israel. They also remind us, as the writer of Hebrews does, that the one who does the blessing is always greater than the person who blesses (Heb. 7:7). In other words, it’s a reminder that Moses, and Abraham, are servants of a higher cause—something and someone, greater than them.
[viii] Even Moses’ sons (mentioned here) are not mentioned again in Exodus, i.e. they do not inherit some ‘family business’, or have a hereditary hold on leadership.
[ix] ‘When you took the problem to a master, as we all remember, he was very likely to explain what you understood already, to add a great deal of information which you didn’t want, and say nothing at all about the thing that was puzzling you. I have watched this from both sides of the net; for when, as a teacher myself, I have tried to answer questions brought me by pupils, I have sometimes, after a minute, seen that expression settle down on their faces which assured me that they were suffering exactly the same frustration which I had suffered from my own teachers. The fellow-pupil can help more than the master because he knows less. The difficulty we want him to explain is one he has recently met. The expert met it so long ago that he has forgotten. He sees the whole subject, by now, in such a different light that he cannot conceive what is really troubling the pupil; he sees a dozen other difficulties which ought to be troubling him but aren’t.’ C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms. (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1960), pp. 1–2
[x] Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Covenant & Conversation: Exodus: The Book of Redemption (Maggid Books & The Orthodox Union, New Milford, CT, 2020), p. 128
[xi] Like a Russian doll, Exodus 18 contains a story within a story. As mentioned, the words ‘not good to do this alone’ send our minds racing back to the beginning, to when God formed humanity from the dust, and God’s reasons for splitting Adam to form the woman. Within the Genesis text, ‘the woman isn’t given to the man to fulfil a function, or because she’s useful. Eve is a gift not primarily because of what she can do, but because of who she is: she is a helper, both like and different from Adam’, as Peter J. Leithart expresses it (Not Good to be Alone). In the Hebrew, helper is the word, ēzer (Gen. 2:18).
In Exodus 18, even prior to Jethro’s statement of ‘not good’, the provision of a woman and the mention of an ēzer has already taken place. Jethro brings back Moses’ wife, along with his son’s, one of which is aptly named Eliezer, meaning God is my Helper. The fact that Moses has more than one son has already been hinted within Exodus 4:20. But this is the first time we discover Moses’ second son’s name. Among other themes, it acts, with the return of Zipporah, as an echo of our need for others, as divinely established in Genesis 2.
Exodus 18:13 could also be a nod to Genesis 1. Moses keeps the people standing in line from ‘morning to evening’. Yes, this is generally how we measure the time span of a day. However, this phrase carries extra significance in the scriptures. The reverse of this phrase, ‘evening to morning’, is how the Genesis 1 creation poem measures the span of God’s work. I have written about this elsewhere (OUR WORLD (PT 2) // STEWARDS: CURATORS OF SHALOM), but in creation ‘one day’ moves from ‘evening to morning’ (from dark to light, from murkiness to clarity, from chaos to order, from futility to fruitfulness). If this wording is a deliberate parallel to Genesis 1, then Exodus 18 presents Moses’ work as having the opposite effect as Gods; he is also being unclear, impractical, and confusing. And, further to the above, Jethro’s advice prompts Moses to provide better ‘helpers’ to the people.
TRISTAN SHERWIN 
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