Moses / Hebrews 11:23-29 / Exodus 16:1-36
Welcome to the Well
Welcome to The Well Community Church, and welcome to our summer teaching series. We are an equipping church—and have been from our very beginning—which means, in some ways, The Well is almost like a teaching hospital. We are a place where we are training and raising up young pastors to get experience doing things in contexts they normally wouldn’t get a chance to do, but for our equipping value. That being said, for this week’s communicator, you are in for a treat.
He’s been married to his wife, Jamie, for eight years. He’s a new father to a young son. He’s currently pursuing an MDiv from Southern Seminary. He’s been on staff at The Well for five years working with our high school students here at our North Campus. He’s a woodworker by hobby, he is ridiculously funny, he is a phenomenal dancer, and he has become a tremendous pastor in our midst. I’ve been very encouraged to do life with this guy as we went through Regeneration together over the last twelve months, and I’ve seen him grow in an amazing way. I’m honestly really proud of the young man he’s become and his maturity in ministry. Would you just welcome to the stage with me, Pastor Jordan Hogue.
Alright, just how shocked would you guys be if I just moonwalked onto the stage? That would be the greatest entrance of all time. I’m not actually that great of a dancer, but you know, Brad mentioned that this place is like a teaching hospital, and I feel that. Every time I get to stand here and preach the Word, I remember that ten years ago, I started coming to The Well and I walked through that door as a patient. God bringing me to this point is honestly surreal. I’m so thankful for all of it, and I’m excited to be here with you guys.
The Power of a Choice
If you could open your Bibles to chapter 11 of the book of Hebrews, we’re going to be at verse 23. I’m excited for a couple of reasons. The first being that the USA soccer team won! I don’t even like soccer, but I’m American and I love winning, so that’s good. Second, Stranger Things came out with another season this last week. I told my wife that in our house, we aren’t watching it until after this sermon. I needed to prepare for this! I’ll admit, I had a little bit of a lapse the other night—Jamie got mad because I watched fifteen minutes of the first episode just to get a little taste. If you don’t know what that show is, just ignore me.
I’m also excited because I think God has a ton for us in the way Hebrews breaks down the life of Moses. Last week, we looked at Joseph, the man who believed in the promises of God and was able to lay claim to them because of God’s faithfulness in the past. This story of Moses culminates in a summary of faith: a faith to choose God’s kingdom over the kingdoms or the ways of this world.
It can be said that our lives are pretty much a sum of our choices. Moments create choices, and choices create our lives. Most of us remember our bad choices. We remember the things we wish we had changed—those are called regrets. For me, at five years old, I remember walking around my apartment complex and kicking the heads off all the sprinklers. Bad choice. I regret that one.
In college, my friends and I had what we called BFTs: “Brain Freeze Thursdays.” We would all put a dollar on the table every Thursday at lunch in the cafeteria. We’d get a big slushie, and the first person to finish theirs got all the money. My friend Tim drank too fast one time, and well, what goes in must come out. He puked everywhere. Then there’s something called the “sympathetic gag reflex.” Apparently, three other people at the table had that, and by the end, it looked like the Kool-Aid Man had been murdered. We never did it again. There was actually a memo signed on our cafeteria door that said, “BFTs are cancelled from here on.” It was so stupid.
But bad decisions happen. There was a time in my life where I felt like a major choice had to be made, and I found solace in these verses. I was finishing my sophomore year of college and went on a mission trip to Mexico. I felt this stirring in me; I had been in Christian school for so long, and I didn’t feel like it was the place for me anymore. But that school was where God really grabbed a hold of my life. That’s where I matured in faith and found a community. My best friends were there. Yet, I felt this “maybe it’s time to go home” feeling.
Over that summer, God built a desire for ministry in my heart for the first time. I have a history with the church in my family, and honestly, I didn’t know what to do with that desire. My parents convinced me to go back for the fall semester. I did, but I eventually realized that longing only grew. It was the kind of push only God can give—the kind that makes no sense, but you know you have to do it. I sat down with a financial advisor and found out I would probably graduate with about $100,000 in debt. I said, “This isn’t for me.”
I made the decision to pull myself out of an environment where I felt safe and moved back home. God used that! I met my wonderful wife, I met my best friends back here, and I got involved at The Well. These decisions aren’t always explainable, but I found peace in this passage. We’re going to see a generational faith that influenced Moses, a personal faith that grinds against the ways of the world, and a leadership faith that leads a nation.
I do need to give one disclaimer: I have an aversion to what you would call “virtue preaching.” I don’t want anybody to walk out of here saying, “I just need to make better choices.” That’s not the point.
Ephesians 2:8-9 (NASB)
For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, [it is] the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.
God is the giver of faith. He perfects our faith. It is only within the bedrock of the Gospel that we are able to make these decisions. I would hate for anyone to walk out thinking life is simply about trying harder and doing better. If you’ve been around The Well, you know what comes next in that cycle: failure. That cycle repeats forever without the Gospel.
A Legacy of Faith
Let’s look at verse 23. We’ve moved from Joseph to Moses. Joseph was second in command in Egypt, but by the time we get to Moses, a new Pharaoh has turned against the people of God. They’ve grown so numerous that the Egyptians have enslaved them. By the way, God promised Abraham this would happen; it was not outside of His control. The persecution became so heavy that Pharaoh issued an edict: every firstborn Jewish male was to be thrown into the river and killed. It was genocide. In light of that, the author writes:
Hebrews 11:23 (NASB)
By faith Moses, when he was born, was hidden for three months by his parents, because they saw he was a beautiful child; and they were not afraid of the king’s edict.
On my side table at home, I have a few things. I have a fan because I run hot when I sleep. I have books. I have headphones because my wife gets real mad when I wake her up with whatever video I’m watching—usually some video of a military person coming home to their son that makes me cry. But I also have a placard that was on my Papa’s desk when he died. It reads: “If you don’t know me, you’ve missed nothing. If you don’t know Jesus, you’ve missed everything. Dr. C. B. ‘Bill’ Hogue.”
My grandfather passed on a legacy of belief that God used to cultivate a love for Him inside of me. I didn’t have a faithful father, but I had a faithful mother. You better believe she prayed for me. She’s sitting right there, and she’s probably thinking, “Mhmm, big time. You needed it, boy.” I didn’t have an example of a father until she remarried Steve, who is also right there and is a great guy.
Think about the audacity of Moses’ parents. They pitched a basket with tar and placed their son into a river because they didn’t know what else to do. Rabbinical literature tells us that Egyptian women would go into houses and pinch their own infants until they cried, hoping to trigger a response from hidden Jewish babies to reveal them. They would then take those babies and throw them into the river. Ironically, it is the river that saves Moses.
Parents, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it’s like to raise a child. My son is nine months old, and I’m new to the game, but I feel the weight of that burden. This text tells us that our faith has a direct effect on our children. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned as a student pastor is that we are often our children’s first picture of the love of God.
I thank God for the students who walk through the doors for youth ministry who have the influence of Christian parents. I know what it’s like to not understand a father’s love because mine walked out when I was young. I had to work against that dynamic; I had to break through the question of how a Heavenly Father could love me when my earthly one didn’t.
Moses’ parents harnessed a faith to choose God’s kingdom over the world. They made the unreal decision to put their baby in the water, defying a tyrant. They had to believe that God loved their boy more than they did. That’s what parenting feels like, right? You can’t control everything. You wish you could make every decision for them, but ultimately, you have to give them to God. You do your best and say, “God, please do the rest.”
God was faithful to Moses. Both Hebrews and Genesis mention his beauty. Commentators argue whether this refers to a spiritual anointing or physical appearance. I like the idea that God providentially made Moses an attractive child so that Pharaoh’s daughter would open that basket, want to take care of him, and defy her own father to preserve God’s plan. By faith, Moses’ family chose to stand up to a tyrant for the life of their son.
Choosing Identity Over Opulence
Moving on to verses 24 through 26—this is all one sentence, so let’s read it together.
Hebrews 11:24-26 (NASB)
By faith Moses, when he had grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to endure ill-treatment with the people of God than to enjoy the passing pleasures of sin, considering the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt; for he was looking to the reward.
This indicates that Moses knew his true identity and decided to embrace it. I hope you grasp the magnitude of this. I just had a birthday, and when you’re an adult, people just give you gift cards. I got about $300 for Amazon, and my first thought was, “I’m a king! I can buy anything!” I have wish lists full of stuff, and it was all available to me.
That $300 is absolutely nothing compared to the opulence and opportunity given to Moses in the court of Pharaoh. Moses could have handed out $300 gift cards to his chariot drivers and it wouldn’t have made a dent in his wealth. He was in the house of the world’s greatest superpower, and he chose to trade that for the status of a slave. He chose God’s kingdom over the world. He had access to everything—sex, money, accolades, health—and he walked away.
Part of Moses’ heroism is that he recognized there are things more valuable than material treasures. The author even admits that sin feels good for a season. When I was in Regeneration, I had to admit that I loved my sin. But in the same breath, I had to ask God to help me love Him more. Sin is like cotton candy. You eat it, it’s delicious, but it doesn’t satisfy. It leaves you wanting more and feeling sicker. The things of this world lull us into a life of mediocrity.
I’m a student pastor, so I try to keep up with what’s cool. One of my favorite current artists is Billie Eilish. She’s fascinating—she dresses like a nineties pimp and makes music with her family. She’s one of the most famous people in the world. I saw an interview where Vanity Fair sat down with her a year apart. In the first, she was on the verge of blowing up. In the second, she had reached the top. All her worldly dreams had come true. She had performed for crowds of 40,000, she had the riches, the awards, and famous people in her phone book.
Two things stood out. First, she was still so sad. She was completely unsatisfied with the world at her fingertips. She had reached the top of the mountain and saw there was nothing there. Second, they asked her, “Would you do it all again?” and she couldn’t say yes.
We place our faith in these goals: “If I only had that job, or that award, I’d be fulfilled.” But the only thing that fulfilled Moses was the kingdom and love of God. Everything else falls wantingly short. And the incredible thing is that God didn’t just ask us to make that choice from afar; He came and showed us. Jesus bore greater shame and suffering than we could imagine so that we could lay hold of the same reward Moses looked toward.
We are all capable of the same faith as Moses because the object of our faith is the same. It isn’t about the amount of faith you have in your reserve; it’s about the Giver of faith.
Seeing the Unseen
Look at verse 27.
Hebrews 11:27 (NASB)
By faith he left Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king; for he endured, as seeing Him who is unseen.
This is a little confusing because if you read the original text in Genesis, it says he left because he was afraid. He had messed up big time. At forty years old, he tried to join his people and his first act was murdering an Egyptian. He fled out of fear.
I think the author of Hebrews is breaking chronological order here. He’s looking at Moses’ return at age eighty after the plagues, when he led the people out. He was able to stand before Pharaoh—the most powerful man in the world—because that man meant nothing in light of eternity. He endured because he saw Him who is unseen.
The Blood of the Lamb
Now, let’s snap back chronologically to the Passover.
Hebrews 11:28 (NASB)
By faith he kept the Passover and the sprinkling of the blood, so that he who destroyed the firstborn would not touch them.
If you haven’t learned to read your Old Testament through the lens of the New Testament, I challenge you to start. It will ignite and illuminate the text. When Jesus was walking on the road to Emmaus, He opened the Scriptures to show the disciples where He was in all of it.
The author of Hebrews is talking to a persecuted people living in a hostile culture. They were asking, “If we choose Jesus, do we still get Moses?” The answer is yes—and honestly, if you don’t choose Jesus, you don’t really get either one. Moses boldly led the people in the Passover. He told them, “Put your sandals on and pack your stuff, because God is going to do this and we’re leaving right after.” He had a faith that he imparted to his people. He believed it would work, and we still celebrate the fulfillment of that every time we take the Lord’s Supper.
I want to be honest with you: I sometimes struggle with owning my faith. In a world that is increasingly hostile, I sometimes feel like I’m on the verge of being “outed” as a Christian. Even saying the “P-word”—Pastor—can be an immediate shutdown to a conversation. I’m a people pleaser. Even preaching like this is tough because I have to remind myself that I am trying to please God first.
I sometimes find myself hoping people won’t ask what I do for a living. I worry about their past experiences with the church and what they might project onto me. That’s a struggle with control. But I look at the boldness of Moses. He stood in the face of Pharaoh and said, “Let my people go.” He dealt with the scorn and shame of people laughing in his face for forty years.
I don’t know where you live, work, and play, but I encourage you: live boldly for Christ in love and truth. You don’t have to be a jerk, and you don’t have to stand on a soapbox in every market, but learn from Moses. Own your faith.
A Collective Step of Faith
Finally, look at verse 29. We see this kingdom faith being transmitted to the whole nation.
Hebrews 11:29 (NASB)
By faith they passed through the Red Sea as though [they were passing] through dry land; and the Egyptians, when they attempted it, were drowned.
They drew strength as a whole from Moses’ individual faith. That sounds a lot like a church. We don’t draw inspiration from the person preaching or singing; we draw it from the person and work of Jesus. The church is a collective whole of faith.
When the Israelites were at the Red Sea, they were terrified. They saw the Egyptians on the horizon and questioned Moses. But they still had the courage to walk through. What if The Well—with all our people and resources—had a passion and faith that looked like that? What could we do in Fresno and Clovis?
History shows that when the church gets too mixed up in worldly power, we lose our way. But when we collectively choose the Kingdom, we do things nobody else can. It’s not “news” when the homeless are clothed or when we build homes for people, because that’s just what we do together. But it is our best evangelism.
Closing Challenge
As we walk away from this picture of Moses, I have two invitations.
First, if you don’t know where you stand with God, know that nothing will satisfy the longings of your heart like Jesus. Nothing will answer that internal call like Him. I want to invite you into this community that works together to bring heaven to earth.
Second, if you’re a Christian who feels shame or fear in a hostile culture, take heart. Take faith from Moses and from your brothers and sisters. Live boldly for Christ in word and deed in a world that desperately needs Him.
Let me pray.
God, we are humbled by Your love and Your sacrifice. We pray, Jesus, that You would give us the courage to live boldly for You. We pray that Your heart would be ours. I ask that The Well, and any church that seeks Your kingdom over this world, would continue to do so with a desire to see Your kingdom come. Teach us how. We pray this in Your name, Jesus. Amen.