Christmas is coming. It is the season of Advent, and the promise of the “not yet” can be heard, barely a whisper, calling from the quietest corners of an earth begging silently for Deliverance.
Prince of Egypt is one of my favorite movies. It tells the story of Moses and the Exodus. The kids in Kazembe love it too, and we were sure to watch it at least once a week during video time. There is so much more to the story than meets the eye.
It is, first and foremost, a story of Deliverance. The Israelites are desperate. They are carrying loads, both literal and spiritual, that are too much for them to bear, and their hope is breaking. The first song is a hungry plea with an echoing refrain: “Deliver us!”
Prince of Egypt is one of my favorite movies. It tells the story of Moses and the Exodus. The kids in Kazembe love it too, and we were sure to watch it at least once a week during video time. There is so much more to the story than meets the eye.
It is, first and foremost, a story of Deliverance. The Israelites are desperate. They are carrying loads, both literal and spiritual, that are too much for them to bear, and their hope is breaking. The first song is a hungry plea with an echoing refrain: “Deliver us!”
But there was no reply. Heaven was silent.
And then Pharaoh felt that his position was threatened by the growing number of Israelites, so he decreed that every baby boy be thrown into the Nile. Israel cried over the blood of her innocents…
And then Pharaoh felt that his position was threatened by the growing number of Israelites, so he decreed that every baby boy be thrown into the Nile. Israel cried over the blood of her innocents…
and still, heaven was silent.
But one little boy was saved. He was hidden within Egypt itself, drawn from the river and protected by royalty. And so Moses slept safe and warm in the palace of a people not his own. He knew luxury and plenty, and he was protected.
Then something changed. The Bible doesn’t tell us what prompted Moses’ curiosity, and the movie takes a bit of creative license, but it seems that Moses was drawn to the world outside the alabaster walls of the palace. At least twice, he ventured out to peer upon the pain and desperation of his own people. I wonder if he realized that it could have been him carrying that load. He saw an Egyptian beating an Israelite, and Moses killed the Egyptian. He then fled to avoid Pharaoh’s wrath.
Twice an exile-- and both times to save his life-- Moses then wandered to Midian. He rescued some damsels in distress and got a wife out of the deal, and then he settled down to live a nice quiet life.
But one little boy was saved. He was hidden within Egypt itself, drawn from the river and protected by royalty. And so Moses slept safe and warm in the palace of a people not his own. He knew luxury and plenty, and he was protected.
Then something changed. The Bible doesn’t tell us what prompted Moses’ curiosity, and the movie takes a bit of creative license, but it seems that Moses was drawn to the world outside the alabaster walls of the palace. At least twice, he ventured out to peer upon the pain and desperation of his own people. I wonder if he realized that it could have been him carrying that load. He saw an Egyptian beating an Israelite, and Moses killed the Egyptian. He then fled to avoid Pharaoh’s wrath.
Twice an exile-- and both times to save his life-- Moses then wandered to Midian. He rescued some damsels in distress and got a wife out of the deal, and then he settled down to live a nice quiet life.
But heaven was listening after all. And Moses’ life was about to be wrecked by Grace.
He found himself standing on Holy Ground surrounded by the glory of God, and then he was told to go.
And so he went. I bet he didn’t want to. Not completely, anyway. I’m sure he felt a fair amount of helpless compassion for the nation he had left behind, but he was just one man, and he was well aware of his weaknesses. He had a nice, normal, comfortable life in Midian. To return, to face the only “family” he had known growing up and demand from them something he felt sure they wouldn’t willingly give, must have been terrifying. But he went.
In the movie, Moses’ father-in-law reminds him that he might not see the full picture. A single thread in the tapestry can never know its role in the grand design, and so he must seek to look at his life through heaven’s eyes, as a part of a story so much bigger than himself.
I wonder if Moses felt brave, or if he just knew that he had to do it anyway and hoped that courage would come with the doing. I kind of think it might have been the latter.
I wonder how it felt to look his “brother” in the eye (the movie holds that the Pharaoh whom Moses confronted was his adopted brother, and many Biblical scholars agree) and tell him that if he didn’t free Egypt’s workforce then terrible calamity would befall him. I wonder if he felt a little silly saying it, because Pharaoh didn’t believe in the same God that Moses did, and Moses knew this. You might as well threaten me with the wrath of Ra.
He found himself standing on Holy Ground surrounded by the glory of God, and then he was told to go.
And so he went. I bet he didn’t want to. Not completely, anyway. I’m sure he felt a fair amount of helpless compassion for the nation he had left behind, but he was just one man, and he was well aware of his weaknesses. He had a nice, normal, comfortable life in Midian. To return, to face the only “family” he had known growing up and demand from them something he felt sure they wouldn’t willingly give, must have been terrifying. But he went.
In the movie, Moses’ father-in-law reminds him that he might not see the full picture. A single thread in the tapestry can never know its role in the grand design, and so he must seek to look at his life through heaven’s eyes, as a part of a story so much bigger than himself.
I wonder if Moses felt brave, or if he just knew that he had to do it anyway and hoped that courage would come with the doing. I kind of think it might have been the latter.
I wonder how it felt to look his “brother” in the eye (the movie holds that the Pharaoh whom Moses confronted was his adopted brother, and many Biblical scholars agree) and tell him that if he didn’t free Egypt’s workforce then terrible calamity would befall him. I wonder if he felt a little silly saying it, because Pharaoh didn’t believe in the same God that Moses did, and Moses knew this. You might as well threaten me with the wrath of Ra.
I wonder if Moses’ heart broke a little bit every time Pharaoh’s stubbornness brought the judgment of heaven raining down. And I wonder what he felt when his “nephew,” son of the Pharaoh, died the night of Passover because he had not been redeemed by the blood of the sacrificial lamb.
And finally, with the blood of that lamb, the cry for deliverance, lowercase “d,” was answered. Moses and his people walked out of Egypt. God saved them again at the Red Sea, and they knew, without a doubt, because they had seen it, that God was with them.
The movie ends there. What it doesn’t tell you is that the next thing you know, all of those newly delivered people turned their back on their Deliverer and made a golden cow to worship instead.
And finally, with the blood of that lamb, the cry for deliverance, lowercase “d,” was answered. Moses and his people walked out of Egypt. God saved them again at the Red Sea, and they knew, without a doubt, because they had seen it, that God was with them.
The movie ends there. What it doesn’t tell you is that the next thing you know, all of those newly delivered people turned their back on their Deliverer and made a golden cow to worship instead.
Moses’ story was a distant foreshadowing of something greater. Many, many generations later, another child would be born. Another king would try to kill Him, and Royalty would rescue Him, because He was Royalty. He would be hidden in Egypt for a time, and when He grew up, He too would demand the Deliverance, capital “D,” of his people. But the blood of animals can never really redeem anything, and so He became the Passover lamb Himself.
And so it turns out that heaven was listening all along.
And so it turns out that heaven was listening all along.
Sometimes I feel like the Israelites. When materialism and selfish gain drown out the joy that should be Christmas, my heart cries, “Deliver us.” When my dreams are visited by the faces of those I couldn’t save, “Deliver us.” As I fall to my knees, unable to choke out the words of a desperate prayer for a sick child that I can’t be there to hold, “Deliver us.” When I wonder how I will ever be strong enough to board a plane and leave friends, family, relationships, and everything else I’ve accumulated here, while simultaneously knowing that I will never be strong enough not to, “Deliver us.” When I fail to represent Him well (or at all), “Deliver us.”
But He has. He has delivered us. Christmas is coming.
The word “Hosanna” originally meant “Save us!” It is only used once in the Old Testament, in Psalm 118:25. In the New Testament, it takes on a different meaning. It is a cry of exultation, a joyous declaration of “Salvation!” John Piper explains it as the difference between fans who are screaming for a safety to catch the quarterback: the old hosanna screams, “Catch him!” The new hosanna declares, “You got him!” As Piper says, “The word moved from plea to praise; from cry to confidence.”
My hosanna is somewhere in the middle tonight. I know Deliverance has come, but I see around me a world that seems to have forgotten it, or never knew it in the first place, or thinks it knows it but lives a life that screams to the contrary. I repeat the same tired prayer for Gladys, terribly sick and so very far away, and I hope with everything I have that heaven will answer-- because even though it makes absolutely no sense at all to most of you reading this, I love that little girl with all of my heart, the same way you love your child, or your sister, or whoever it is that you dearly love. I don’t know where my thread fits into the tapestry, but it seems to be hopelessly interwoven with those of the children of Kazembe.
But He has. He has delivered us. Christmas is coming.
The word “Hosanna” originally meant “Save us!” It is only used once in the Old Testament, in Psalm 118:25. In the New Testament, it takes on a different meaning. It is a cry of exultation, a joyous declaration of “Salvation!” John Piper explains it as the difference between fans who are screaming for a safety to catch the quarterback: the old hosanna screams, “Catch him!” The new hosanna declares, “You got him!” As Piper says, “The word moved from plea to praise; from cry to confidence.”
My hosanna is somewhere in the middle tonight. I know Deliverance has come, but I see around me a world that seems to have forgotten it, or never knew it in the first place, or thinks it knows it but lives a life that screams to the contrary. I repeat the same tired prayer for Gladys, terribly sick and so very far away, and I hope with everything I have that heaven will answer-- because even though it makes absolutely no sense at all to most of you reading this, I love that little girl with all of my heart, the same way you love your child, or your sister, or whoever it is that you dearly love. I don’t know where my thread fits into the tapestry, but it seems to be hopelessly interwoven with those of the children of Kazembe.
In this moment, I whisper, “Hosanna.”
Christmas is coming.
Christmas is coming.
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