Sermonstudio

How does one take an old and familiar story regarding supernatural events that took place centuries ago in a far-off land and give it relevance for hearers today? Reliance on miracle, as in the case of the plagues in Egypt, may make the story charming, but not necessarily useful to people today who would like to believe in deus ex machina but really don't expect to experience it.

Recounting the story of the plagues in Egypt from Pharaoh's perspective gives hearers the opportunity to learn about Moses as a hero of faith, but at the same time, they may be enabled to see how a strictly secular approach to the events of our lives prevents us from seeing that there is a moral order in the universe that is drawing us toward justice and equity.

One valuable lesson, which the events of this story might illustrate, is the danger in the all-too-human characteristic of hubris. Pharaoh's estimate of himself keeps him from recognizing that the God of the universe is on the side of justice and equity. Like so many secularists today, he is satisfied with an approach to life that makes no place for a spiritual dimension. It is useful, therefore, to have Pharaoh speak for himself in a manner that will lead a modern skeptic to identify with him, so that when Pharaoh finally questions where his skepticism has led him, the skeptical listener will have to do the same.

A one-sentence proposition for this sermon is: "God chooses the insignificant who recognize him, rather than the mighty who reject him."




Pharaoh And The Plagues

Exodus 5-11


I am called Horus, Beloved of Truth, Defender of Egypt, Binder of the Barbarians, Rich in Years, Great of Victory, king of Upper and Lower Egypt, Son of Re, Good God, king of the Southland. My name is Ramses. I am Pharaoh, absolute ruler of Egypt, possessor of great armies, wealthier than any other king. Yet it profits me nothing. I have everything and I cannot enjoy it.

Have you ever met a man who you knew in advance was going to take all the joy out of living? It has been my great misfortune to encounter such a man. His name is Moses. He is kind of a labor organizer, a leader of the riffraff in my kingdom. He claims to be spokesman for a god you cannot even see. I've about had my fill of him and his whole lot. I would have had him eliminated early on, but over the years I've learned that one should never make a martyr out of any reformer. But who could have known it would come to this?

The first time I met him he tried to impress me with a cheap magician's trick to get me to listen to his cause. Here in Egypt it is possible to take a cobra, and by pressing on its neck, to make it become rigid like a stick. When the snake is thrown down, the paralysis is ended and it looks like a stick has become a snake. Moses tried that on me. I showed him that my magicians could do the same thing. I decided to nip this movement in the bud. I announced that if the Hebrews had time to follow a magician around, perhaps they didn't have enough work to do, so I increased their load. Needless to say, that didn't make Moses too popular with his own people.

Eventually, he became a real nuisance. Everywhere I went, he was there saying, "Thus says the Lord, 'Let my people go.' " People, ha! You know what those people are that he talks about?

Nothing, that's what they are ... just slaves. And he wants me, a king, to submit to their demands.

It so happens that we have had a series of adversities recently in Egypt -- natural disasters, you could call them. And do you know what? This Moses is trying to get us to believe that he brought them to pass. And he's got just about everyone in Egypt believing him, everyone but me. Let me tell you how it started.

I was building two treasure cities, Pithom and Ramses. The latter is named after me. I pressed the Hebrews into my service because I needed their manpower. Then Moses came, as I have said, and demanded in the name of his god that I let the Hebrews go out into the wilderness, a three-days' journey out, so they could sacrifice to their god. I could see through that right away; if they ever got three days' distance from Egypt, we'd never get them back. He said that if I refused, his god would turn the Nile into blood, by which he meant that it would become red. Well, that was nothing new; there had been other years, when the Nile had been particularly high, that it brought down a great deal of red earth and algae from higher up. It so happened that after Moses spoke, the Nile did turn red for a week, but our own magicians have been able to forecast the same thing in time past. The water was foul for a while and a lot of fish died, but I was not impressed. I said: "No release."

Then, this Moses came again and said, "Let my people go, or there will be an invasion of frogs." I said, "No." And just as sure as you are sitting there, the next day frogs began to come out of the Nile in numbers you wouldn't believe. We've always had frogs along the bank, and they were never a bother. I assume that the unusually high river had given them an abundance of breeding places. There were hopping, croaking frogs everywhere -- in houses, in beds, in closets, in pots and pans. That would have been tolerable, but after a few days they began to die. It probably had something to do with the dead fish I mentioned. Well, I thought, "It's just magic, but if Moses can get these frogs back into the river, at least we can get rid of the smell." I told him that if he would get rid of the frogs, I'd let his people go. The next day the live frogs were gone, but my magicians assured me that the frogs had just about run their course anyway, so I told Moses that I owed him nothing. Besides, the land was still covered with stacks of foul-smelling dead frogs!

Before long we had an infestation of mosquitoes. Mosquitoes are not uncommon here, but this was a particularly bad infestation, probably intensified by the abundance of breeding places left exposed by the unusually high river. But Moses claimed the credit for this, too. By this time he had completely confounded my magicians, and they were willing to admit that this must be in the hands of Moses' god. I held my ground, and in time the mosquitoes disappeared.

Moses met me at the river one day and said, "Let my people go, or there will be flies all over the land." I have to admit, he was a shrewd observer. With all these stinking frogs piled up all over the place, what else would you expect but flies? And sure enough, they came -- little tropical, biting flies that breed well in upper Egypt, but not at all well down in the Mediterranean climate of Goshen, where the Hebrews live. So it looked like Moses' god was favoring the Hebrews, and punishing the Egyptians. I figured I'd get rid of this "I told-you-so" by granting his request. I said, "All right go, sacrifice to your god, but do it here in Egypt." I wasn't about to let them out of my sight.

I have to hand it to that Moses; he always has a reason for not compromising. He said, "No, that won't do. If we sacrifice in the presence of the Egyptians they will be offended by our mode of worship and stone us." Moses was probably right about that, so I said, "All right, just a little bit over the border, but get rid of these flies." He got rid of the flies, but then insisted on going a on three-days-journey away, and I refused.

As the waters receded, we were in for more trouble. Many of our farmers in upper Egypt let their cattle out to graze too soon after the flooding, and whatever had killed the fish and frogs, was still on the ground. Moses came and said that if I did not let the Hebrews go, there would be a plague on our animals. Sure enough, our animals began to die. But down in Goshen, where the waters receded more slowly, and the animals were stabled longer, they were not contaminated. My people could not see these connections, but I could, and so I refused Moses' request.

Moses, on the other hand, claimed he would extend the plague to people as well as to beasts. Many of my people broke out in boils and sores, particularly on their legs. I'm sure it had something to do with the biting flies which we had experienced earlier, but my people did not think so. My magicians were themselves suffering with the disease, and they were pleading with me to give in to Moses. He had beat them at their own game. But he did not convince me, and eventually the plague subsided.

Moses warned one day that there would be a terrible hailstorm unless I let his people go. I did not pay much attention to him, but I did notice a ripple of disturbance among the people of my court. In fact, many of them hurried out to get their animals into sheltered places. Sure enough, the storm came with thunder and lightening and hail. I could no longer afford the kind of hold he had on the imaginations of my people, so I publicly asked him to speak to his god about stopping the hail. It was the only politically expedient thing to do. But being humiliated that way, I was not about to let the Hebrews get clear away from me. Besides, my treasure cities were not yet completed, so I turned down Moses' requests.

Then Moses came up with the threat of a locust invasion. By this time he had my people running cold. They listened to him in fear, and when Moses left my presence, my people were insistent that I capitulate. I called Moses back and said, "Go ahead, take all your men, and worship as far away as you like, but leave your women and children here." I knew that if the men went, holding their families would bring them back. Then, without waiting for an answer, I ended the interview. Naturally, Moses found the terms unacceptable, but I appeared to my people to have been reasonable.

The locusts came. Frankly, they were worse than I had expected. To this day I have not figured out how Moses knew they were coming. I was desperate. Whatever had not been destroyed by the hail was being eaten by the locusts. So once more I relied on Moses' magic. I said, "Get rid of the locusts and I will let you go." The locusts were blown away by a strong wind, and it appeared to me the worst was over, so I thought better of the agreement. Now was not the time to let the Hebrews go. I refused.

Without any warning darkness came upon the land. Periodically we have in our country a hot south wind from the Sahara, which brings with it an abundance of sand that completely blocks out the light of the sun. It is called "Khamsin." This was worse than any I had experienced. It was augmented by the red dust left by the receding Nile, and by the fact that the hail and locusts had made our fields into dust bowls. This had all the marks of Moses' work, so I called him to the palace and said, "Go ahead, all of you, men, women and children, and sacrifice wherever you wish; only leave your flocks and herds where they are." Wouldn't you know he'd have an answer? "No," he said, "we cannot leave the animals. We will have to sacrifice from them, and we won't know how many we will need until we get where we are going." Well, I had had enough. It was obvious now that they had no intention of returning if I ever let them go. I told Moses to get out, and never to come before me again.

I have not seen Moses since. But my soldiers tell me he has given an ultimatum. If I don't let the Hebrews go, he says the firstborn of our flocks and families will die. I don't suppose it is really true, but it certainly does make one stop and think. There really couldn't be such a god as Moses speaks of, could there? A god who demonstrates his power through the everyday occurrences of nature? A god who identifies himself with the cause of the down-trodden and the poor rather than with the powerful and the rich? A god who so inspires those who trust in him that they are confident that he will give them the victory? A god who is so strong that life and death itself are in his hands? Is there any god like that? The answer to that question may very well lead to the most important decision that I, or you for that matter, ever make.