Commentary - Exodus 2:11-22

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, we find Moses at the forty year mark, a man educated in all the wisdom of the Egyptians and mighty in his words and deeds. But this is the story of how a man mighty in his own strength must be broken and remade before he can be of any use to God. Moses sees the affliction of his people and decides to take matters into his own hands. This is a work of the flesh, a zealous but premature attempt at deliverance that results in murder, rejection, and exile. God must drive Moses out of the palace and into the wilderness for a second forty year education, this time in the school of humility. It is here, as a fugitive and a shepherd, that God prepares him for his true calling. The man who would deliver Israel must first learn that he cannot deliver himself.

The narrative arc is clear: a prince becomes a fugitive, a man of action becomes a sheepherder, and a self-appointed judge is rejected by his own brethren. Yet, in all this, the providence of God is weaving everything together. His flight leads him to a well, a wife, and a new life in Midian. His failure in Egypt is the necessary prerequisite for his commissioning at the burning bush. God's strength is made perfect in weakness, and Moses had to be made weak before he could be made strong in the Lord.

Outline

Context In Exodus

This section of Moses' life serves as the crucial hinge between his miraculous preservation as an infant in the Nile and his divine calling forty years later in the wilderness of Midian. Having been raised in the house of Pharaoh, Moses is now confronted with his true identity. The events here precipitate the end of his Egyptian life and the beginning of his wilderness training. This narrative demonstrates why human strength and worldly wisdom are insufficient for the work of God. Israel's deliverance cannot be accomplished by a palace coup or vigilante justice; it must be a clear and unmistakable act of God, through a servant who knows he is nothing without his Master.

Key Issues

Moses Flees to Midian (2:11-22)

11 Now it happened in those days, that Moses had grown up. And he went out to his brothers and looked on their hard labors. And he saw an Egyptian striking a Hebrew, one of his brothers.

Moses is now forty years old. The phrase "had grown up" signifies not just physical maturity but a crisis of identity. He makes a deliberate choice here. He "went out to his brothers." Despite his Egyptian upbringing, his royal status, and all the privileges that came with it, he chose to identify with the afflicted people of God. He looked on their hard labors, and his heart was moved. This is the seed of a deliverer's compassion. Then the general injustice becomes a specific, personal affront. He sees an Egyptian striking a Hebrew, and the text adds, "one of his brothers." The choice has been made in his heart, and now it will be tested by his hands.

12 So he turned this way and that, and he saw that there was no one around. So he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.

Notice the calculus here. He "turned this way and that." He is not looking to heaven for a sign; he is looking around for earthly witnesses. This is human prudence, not divine guidance. His action, while perhaps fueled by a righteous indignation, is a work of the flesh. It is carnal. He takes the power of the sword into his own hands, a power that did not belong to him, and becomes a vigilante. And as one sin begets another, the act of violence is immediately followed by an act of concealment. He "hid him in the sand." This is not the bold declaration of a prophet of God. This is the furtive action of a man who knows he has transgressed and fears the consequences. This is what deliverance looks like when man is in charge.

13 Then he went out the next day, and behold, two Hebrews were struggling with each other; and he said to the wicked one, “Why are you striking your companion?”

Moses, emboldened by getting away with it, goes out the next day to continue his self-appointed role as savior and judge of his people. But he quickly learns that the problem is not simply the Egyptians oppressing the Hebrews. The problem is sin, and it is just as present within the covenant community. Israel's problem was not just Pharaoh; Israel's problem was Israel. And so it is with the church. We are often tempted to think all our problems are "out there," but the ugliest fights are often family fights.

14 But he said, “Who made you a ruler or a judge over us? Are you intending to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?” Then Moses was afraid and said, “Surely the matter has become known.”

Here it is. This is the classic response of a sinful people to the man God has sent them. "Who made you a ruler or a judge over us?" Stephen quotes this very line in his sermon in Acts 7 to show that this has always been Israel's pattern: they reject the deliverers God sends them. They did it to Moses, they did it to the prophets, and they ultimately did it to the Lord Jesus Christ. The second part of the retort shows that his sin has found him out. The secret is out, and the man who was confident enough to kill a man yesterday is now undone by a few sharp words. His fleshly strength evaporates, and "Moses was afraid." His plan, his power, his project of self-made deliverance, has utterly collapsed.

15 And Pharaoh heard of this matter, so he sought to kill Moses. But Moses fled from the presence of Pharaoh and settled in the land of Midian, and he sat down by a well.

The world system, represented by Pharaoh, will not tolerate any rival authority. When Pharaoh hears of it, he seeks to kill Moses. The prince of Egypt is now a fugitive with a price on his head. This is God's doing. God is stripping Moses of every ounce of his Egyptian identity and self-reliance. The forty years of palace education are over, and the forty years of desert education are about to begin. And where does this broken man end up? He "sat down by a well." In Scripture, wells are places of transition, of divine appointments, of finding a bride. Think of Abraham's servant finding Rebekah, or Jacob meeting Rachel. Moses' life in Egypt is over, and God is about to provide for him in the wilderness.

16 Now the priest of Midian had seven daughters; and they came and drew water and filled the troughs to give water to their father’s flock to drink.

God's providence is never idle. As Moses sits, a fugitive with an uncertain future, God is already moving the chess pieces. The priest of Midian, a man named Reuel (also called Jethro), has seven daughters, and their daily chores bring them right to the spot where God has placed Moses.

17 Then the shepherds came and drove them away, but Moses rose up and saved them and gave water to their flock to drink.

Injustice is not limited to Egypt. Here we see petty tyranny among shepherds. But notice the difference in Moses' action. In Egypt, he acted as a killer and a judge. Here, he acts as a protector and a servant. He rises up, saves the weak from the bullies, and then serves them by watering their flock. This is a glimpse of the true shepherd he is to become. God is retraining his deliverer, teaching him to use his strength not to kill and hide, but to save and to serve.

18 Then they came to Reuel their father, and he said, “Why have you come back so soon today?”

Moses' decisive, righteous action had an immediate and practical effect. The work got done quickly. Competent, godly masculinity makes a difference in the world. Reuel notices this efficiency and inquires about it.

19 So they said, “An Egyptian delivered us from the hand of the shepherds, and he actually even drew the water for us and gave water to the flock to drink.”

The irony here is rich. The man who just fled Egypt because he was too Hebrew is now identified by these Midianite women as "an Egyptian." He is a man without a country, caught between two worlds. But what did this "Egyptian" do? He delivered them. The word is significant. And he didn't just deliver, he served. He did the hard work for them.

20 And he said to his daughters, “Where is he then? Why is it that you have left the man behind? Call him so that he may eat bread.”

Reuel shows himself to be a man of piety and gratitude. He understands the importance of hospitality, a cardinal virtue in the ancient world and in the kingdom of God. He recognizes that this stranger has acted righteously, and he extends the hand of fellowship. For a fugitive like Moses, this invitation to "eat bread" is an act of profound grace. It is God providing a table for him in the wilderness.

21 And Moses was willing to settle down with the man, and he gave his daughter Zipporah to Moses.

Moses accepts his new reality. He is "willing to settle down." The prince of Egypt becomes a humble member of a Midianite priest's household. He submits to God's humbling providence. And in that submission, God provides for his needs. He is given a wife, Zipporah, and with her, the foundation for a new life. God honors the humble.

22 Then she gave birth to a son, and he named him Gershom, for he said, “I have been a sojourner in a foreign land.”

The birth of a son is always a sign of God's covenant faithfulness. But the name Moses chooses for him reveals his state of mind. Gershom means something like "a sojourner there." Moses' own commentary on the name is stark: "I have been a sojourner in a foreign land." He is an alien, an exile. He has lost his home, his status, his people, and his self-made mission. He is a man who belongs nowhere. And this is precisely where God wants him. It is only when we know ourselves to be sojourners and exiles in this world that we learn to depend entirely on God and to look for the city that has foundations, whose builder and maker is God. Moses' training has begun in earnest.

Application

The central lesson of this passage is the difference between works of the flesh and the work of the Spirit. Moses, full of the best education and natural ability the world could offer, tried to accomplish God's purposes in his own strength and on his own timetable. The result was a bloody mess. We are all tempted to do the same. We see a problem in the church, in our family, or in the culture, and we rush in with our own clever plans, forgetting to wait on the Lord.

God's response to Moses' carnal zeal was forty years of humbling in the backside of the desert. Before God could use him to lead a nation, He had to teach him how to lead sheep. Before he could confront Pharaoh, he had to learn to be a husband and father in a foreign land. God often prepares us for great things by leading us through long periods of obscurity and apparent fruitlessness. He must strip us of our self-reliance so that we will rely only on His strength.

Finally, we see that even our failures and sins are woven into the tapestry of God's sovereign plan. Moses' murder led to his exile, and his exile led to his preparation for ministry. This does not excuse the sin, but it magnifies the grace and wisdom of God. For the Christian, there are no wasted years. Whether in the palace or in the desert, God is always at work, conforming us to the image of His Son, preparing us for the work He has prepared for us to do.