The God Who Comes Down Text: Exodus 3:7-12
Introduction: A God Who Intervenes
We live in a world that is deeply confused about the nature of God. To the extent that modern man thinks about God at all, he conceives of Him as a distant, abstract principle. He is the great watchmaker in the sky, who wound up the universe and then retired to a safe distance to see how it would all run down. He is an idea, a force, a vague sentiment of goodwill. But He is most certainly not a God who gets His hands dirty. He is not a God who intervenes.
This is the central lie of Deism, and it is a lie that has seeped into the foundations of the modern church, producing a weak and anemic faith. We have a God who is interested in our "spiritual lives," but not our political, economic, or cultural lives. He is a God for Sundays, but not for Mondays. He is a God of the heart, but not of history.
The passage before us this morning is a direct assault on this timid, domesticated deity. The God of the burning bush is not a distant landlord; He is a conquering king. He is not a passive observer; He is an active participant. He is the God who sees, who hears, who knows, and who, most gloriously, comes down. This is the central truth of the Christian faith. Our God is not a God who remains aloof in His holy heaven. He is a God who descends into the muck and mire of human history to rescue His people. The entire story of the Bible is the story of God coming down, from Eden, to Sinai, to the Tabernacle, culminating in the ultimate descent, the Incarnation, when God Himself took on flesh and dwelt among us. The Exodus is the great Old Testament paradigm of this glorious, invasive grace.
In these verses, God reveals His plan of salvation to a fugitive shepherd on the backside of the desert. And in doing so, He reveals His character, His power, and the pattern of redemption that will echo down through the centuries, finding its ultimate fulfillment at another mountain, Calvary.
The Text
And Yahweh said, “I have surely seen the affliction of My people who are in Egypt, and I have heard their cry because of their taskmasters, for I know their sufferings. So I have come down to deliver them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up from that land to a good and spacious land, to a land flowing with milk and honey, to the place of the Canaanite and the Hittite and the Amorite and the Perizzite and the Hivite and the Jebusite. So now, behold, the cry of the sons of Israel has come to Me; and I have also seen the oppression with which the Egyptians are oppressing them. So now, come and I will send you to Pharaoh, and so you shall bring My people, the sons of Israel, out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring the sons of Israel out of Egypt?” And He said, “Certainly I will be with you, and this shall be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God at this mountain.”
(Exodus 3:7-12 LSB)
The Divine Initiative (vv. 7-8)
The first thing we must see is that salvation always begins with God. It is His initiative from start to finish.
"And Yahweh said, 'I have surely seen the affliction of My people who are in Egypt, and I have heard their cry because of their taskmasters, for I know their sufferings. So I have come down to deliver them...'" (Exodus 3:7-8a)
Notice the four verbs that describe God's engagement. He sees, He hears, He knows, and He comes down. This is not a detached, impersonal observation. This is the intimate, covenantal knowledge of a father for his children. The word "know" here is not mere intellectual awareness; it is the deep, experiential knowledge of shared suffering. God enters into the affliction of His people. He does not stand apart from it.
This is a profound comfort. When you are in the furnace of affliction, you are not alone. God is not surprised by your suffering. He is not indifferent to your cries. He sees. He hears. He knows. The groans of Israel under the whips of their taskmasters were not lost in the desert air; they ascended to the throne of the universe. And this is true for every believer. Your prayers, your tears, your secret heartaches are known to Him. The God who governs the galaxies bends His ear to the cry of His children.
But knowledge alone is not salvation. God's knowledge moves Him to action. "So I have come down to deliver them." This is the language of divine intervention. God is breaking into history. He is invading enemy-occupied territory. The world operates on the assumption that God stays "up there." But the Bible is the record of God repeatedly coming "down here." And this descent is always for the purpose of deliverance. He comes down to rescue, to redeem, to set the captives free. This is the gospel in miniature. God saw our affliction in sin, He heard our cry for a savior, He knew our helpless estate, and so He came down in the person of His Son to deliver us from the hand of our ultimate oppressor, Satan himself.
The Divine Promise (v. 8b)
God's deliverance is not merely a rescue from something; it is a rescue to something. He is not just taking them out; He is bringing them in.
"...and to bring them up from that land to a good and spacious land, to a land flowing with milk and honey, to the place of the Canaanite and the Hittite and the Amorite and the Perizzite and the Hivite and the Jebusite." (Exodus 3:8b LSB)
The promise is twofold. First, He will bring them "up." This is not just geographical; it is theological. He is elevating them from a state of slavery to a state of sonship, from degradation to dignity. Second, He is bringing them to a "good and spacious land." This is the fulfillment of the promise made to Abraham centuries before. The land is described as "flowing with milk and honey," a picture of immense abundance, fertility, and blessing. This is not just about real estate; it is about covenant faithfulness. God keeps His promises.
But notice the end of the verse. This good land is not empty. It is occupied by a whole host of "ites." This is a crucial point that we often miss. The promised land is a battlefield. God's gift must be taken by conquest. Faith is not passive; it is an active, fighting grace. God promises us the victory, but He calls us to the fight. He gives us the land, but we must drive out the inhabitants. This is the pattern of the Christian life. God has promised us victory over sin, but we must mortify the flesh. He has promised us the inheritance of the saints, but we must wage war against the world, the flesh, and the devil. The land of milk and honey is on the other side of the Jordan, and there are giants in the land. But the God who brought us out of Egypt is more than able to bring us in.
The Divine Commission (vv. 9-10)
Having declared His plan, God now calls His instrument. It is a stunning and almost comical turn of events.
"So now, behold, the cry of the sons of Israel has come to Me; and I have also seen the oppression with which the Egyptians are oppressing them. So now, come and I will send you to Pharaoh, and so you shall bring My people, the sons of Israel, out of Egypt." (Genesis 3:9-10 LSB)
God reiterates that He has seen and heard, and then He says, "So now, come and I will send you." God's grand, cosmic plan of redemption hinges on this eighty-year-old shepherd with a criminal record. This is the glorious and maddening way that God works. He chooses the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He uses foolish things to confound the wise. He could have sent a legion of angels. He could have struck Pharaoh dead with a lightning bolt from heaven. But He chooses to use a man. He delights in using crooked sticks to draw straight lines.
This is the principle of mediation. God works through human agents. He has entrusted the ministry of reconciliation to us. He sends us. The command "I will send you" is the foundation of all mission, all evangelism, all Christian service. God does not need us, but He chooses to use us. This is an immense privilege and a weighty responsibility. God's plan to deliver His people from the Egypt of our day, our secular, pagan culture, depends on His people answering the call, "Come, I will send you."
The Human Inadequacy and the Divine Sufficiency (vv. 11-12)
Moses's response is entirely predictable and entirely relatable. He is overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task and his own insufficiency.
"But Moses said to God, 'Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring the sons of Israel out of Egypt?'" (Exodus 3:11 LSB)
This is not false humility. This is an honest assessment. Forty years prior, Moses thought he was somebody. He was a prince of Egypt, mighty in word and deed. He tried to deliver Israel in his own strength, and all he got was a dead Egyptian and a forty-year exile. Now, after four decades of shepherding, God has stripped him of his self-reliance. He knows exactly who he is: a nobody. "Who am I?" is the right question. It is the beginning of wisdom.
The problem is not the question, but where we look for the answer. Moses is looking at himself. God's answer is a magnificent redirection. He doesn't answer Moses's question at all. He doesn't say, "Moses, you are a gifted leader, a brilliant strategist, a charismatic speaker." He says something far better.
"And He said, 'Certainly I will be with you, and this shall be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God at this mountain.'" (Exodus 3:12 LSB)
God's answer is not about who Moses is, but about who God is. "Certainly I will be with you." This is the ultimate promise. This is the only qualification necessary for any task God gives. The question is not, "Who am I?" The question is, "Who is with me?" The presence of God transforms the equation. It makes the impossible possible. It makes the weak strong and the foolish wise. This is the promise given to Joshua, to Gideon, to Jeremiah, and ultimately to the church in the Great Commission: "And lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." Our sufficiency is not in ourselves, but in His presence.
And then God gives a sign. But it is a strange sign. It is a sign that can only be understood in retrospect. "When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God at this mountain." The proof that God sent him will be the successful completion of the mission. This requires faith. God is telling Moses to step out on the promise, and the confirmation will come on the other side of obedience. This is how faith works. We obey first, and understanding follows. We trust His promise, we act on His command, and then we look back and see His faithfulness confirmed. He is calling Moses, and us, to a life of forward-facing faith, trusting that the God who sends is the God who will see it through to the end.
Conclusion: The Greater Exodus
This entire episode is a shadow, a type, of a greater deliverance to come. God saw our slavery to sin, a bondage far worse than that of Egypt. He heard our groaning under the tyranny of the devil. And in the fullness of time, He came down. He did not send a prophet; He sent His Son. Jesus is the greater Moses.
And like Moses, He asked, in the Garden of Gethsemane, if there was another way. But He submitted to the Father's will. He went to the ultimate Pharaoh, Satan, and confronted him not in a palace, but on a cross. He brought us out of bondage, not through the Red Sea, but through His own blood. He is leading us to a better country, a heavenly one, a city whose builder and maker is God.
And the promise to us is the same. "I will be with you." The Holy Spirit has been given to us, to empower us, to guide us, to comfort us. We are called to an impossible task: to disciple the nations, to tear down strongholds, to proclaim the Lordship of Christ over every square inch of creation. And when we look at ourselves, we rightly ask, "Who am I?" But God does not call the qualified. He qualifies the called. And His qualification is His presence. Therefore, let us go forward in faith, knowing that the God who was with Moses is with us, and He will accomplish His purposes, through us, for His glory.