Moses: A Man of Selfless Dedication

by Charles R. Swindoll

The remarkable pilgrimage of English poet William Cowper comes to mind whenever I think of a man coming to the end of his rope. Cowper found himself so deep in discouragement and despair he tried to put an end to it all by drinking poison. But God graciously led someone to find him. His stomach was pumped, and he was delivered. As soon as he recovered, the despairing writer hired a coach to take him down to the Thames River where he intended to plunge himself into the dark, swirling waters. The driver of the coach, however, would have none of it. He restrained Cowper, got him back into the coach, and drove him home. Frustrated with that attempt, he found a knife in the privacy of his home and attempted to fall upon it. If you can believe it, the blade broke. Still not deterred, he rigged up a rope in the basement, put his neck in the noose, and dropped into thin air. But someone found him before he strangled and took him down. He couldn’t even kill himself ! Finally, in the depth of sorrow, he drove himself to the Book of Romans. In the pages of that book, he found a passage which brought him to his knees, and to faith in Jesus Christ. Years later, as a mature man of God, Cowper penned this now-familiar hymn: God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sov’reign will.2

“But Pharaoh said, ‘Who is the LORD that I should obey His voice to let Israel go? I do not know the LORD, and besides, I will not let Israel go’ ” (Exodus 5:2).

Moses asked the Lord a question, and God’s answer came in the form of ten plagues. (Be careful what you ask!) Here is how Scripture records it: Now the LORD spoke to Moses, saying, “Go, tell Pharaoh king of Egypt to let the sons of Israel go out of his land.” But Moses spoke before the LORD, saying, “Behold, the sons of Israel have not listened to me; how then will Pharaoh listen to me, for I am unskilled in speech?” (Exodus 6:10–12)

The whole nation suffered as a result of Pharaoh’s callus, obdurate response to the Lord. As your eye skims across the text covering the plagues that shook the land, you will see the word “all” again and again. “All the land, all the livestock, all the men and beasts.” Finally, and tragically, we see the words “all the firstborn.”

To every Egyptian, the Nile was basic to life itself. Well water in that land was often contaminated—a situation that remains to this very day. So the Egyptian depended on the mighty Nile for all his water needs: water for bathing, cooking, cleaning, laundry, and drinking. On top of that, fish was an Egyptian staple. To strike the Nile, then, was to impact the heart of their diet: fresh water and fresh fish.

“Gnat” is a word that describes a biting, stinging insect that penetrates the nostrils and ears of its victims.

The Hebrew word for “swarm” means “mixture,” speaking of a great mixture of different kinds of insects.

God had already removed the supply of fish, and for a time He also removed the supply of water. Now there was no red meat or milk. The pestilence struck the cattle, horses, donkeys, camels, goats, and sheep. Think of the bloated carcasses strewn across the land. It made the heaps of green frogs look decorative by comparison! Yet just over the border in Goshen, the Hebrews’ livestock prospered. Their animals never even got sick. How clear could the evidence be? Yet Pharaoh, his own one-man jury, declared the evidence “not relevant.” Same song, fifth verse—he hardened his heart yet again.

Now, when you have a boil, there is one thing you don’t want to happen. You don’t want anything or anyone to bump up against you. The pain is bad enough, undisturbed. So what was the seventh plague? Hail.

On January 28, 1995, the residents of Thomasville, Georgia, endured what meteorologists call a “supercell hailstorm.” Hailstones the size of softballs— up to four inches in diameter—rained out of the sky and tore into that community.

To make matters worse for the Egyptians, they had only to look across the border into the nearby land of Goshen to see that life went on normally. Cattle grazed in the pastures. Trees blossomed and produced their fruit. Healthy children played in the streets and vacant lots. Fields of grain rippled in the breeze. Not a single locust afflicted the Hebrew community. I recall a late-night television documentary about locusts. A select team of journalists placed themselves directly in the path of an advancing army of them. (How’d you like to draw that duty? You look on your assignment sheet on Monday morning and you blink twice as you read: “Cover locust plague in Botswana.”) The reporters had their microphones on as the swarm drew near and described the sound as similar to that of an approaching 747. As the infestation overran their positions, the roar became so great you could hardly hear the narrator describe the action. It was deafening.

Locusts, I have learned, fly in formation. Years ago they located a swarm twelve hundred miles wide over the ocean flying from West Africa toward Great Britain. As you might imagine, they brought great devastation upon the British Isles. In one picture taken from an airplane, you couldn’t see any open piece of ground. It was jet black with locusts—an area two thousand miles square. Exodus 10:14 says Egypt had never seen such an attack of locusts and never would again. Remember how I mentioned that the plagues worsened in their intensity one by one? I’m sure no one in Egypt could imagine anything worse. Yet, if you can believe it, two plagues remained.

It was Ralph Waldo Emerson who said, “There is properly no history; only biography.” Thomas Carlyle, his contemporary, added these words back to him: “The study of history is nothing more than the study of great men and women.”

Genesis, for example, is nothing more than the biography of twelve men wrapped up in a historical account of God’s movement on this earth. Think about those men. You have Adam and his three sons, Cain, Abel, and Seth. That brings you to Noah and his three boys, Shem, Ham, and Japheth. This is followed by the account of Abraham and his son Isaac followed by Isaac’s son, Jacob, followed by Jacob’s son, Joseph. That’s it! That’s the basic outline of the Book of Genesis. When you get to Exodus, it’s primarily the biography of one man. Suddenly the telescopic lens of the Holy Spirit centers upon one individual and stays there through four more books—Exodus through Deuteronomy. As you know by now, it is the biography of Moses, God’s personal servant, whom He shaped into a man of selfless dedication.

Pharaoh did not—would not—obey. As a result, he exposed both himself and his nation to the judgment of the Lord. The Hebrews, however, heard the Lord’s word through Moses and did obey, right down to the smallest detail. As a result, they experienced a great deliverance. They made history, while Pharaoh became history.

To be painfully honest, when you and I look back at our lives, we do not find ourselves puzzled and mystified about God’s will nearly as much as we find ourselves stubborn and resistant to the One directing our steps. Our problem isn’t that we don’t know; our problem is that we do know but aren’t willing to follow through.

“Pharaoh arose in the night, he and all his servants and all the Egyptians, and there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was no home where there was not someone dead” (v. 30).

In Psalm 105, the psalmist gives some insight from the Exodus that Moses (busy as he was) didn’t take time to put into his Exodus journal. Then He brought them out with silver and gold, and among His tribes there was not one who stumbled. (v. 37) That was the spirit in which they departed. Among that great throng, not one person stumbled. There wasn’t a weak one in the bunch. They were all ready for the trip. God had preserved them, giving them health and stamina for the journey. Egypt was glad when they departed, for the dread of them had fallen upon them. He spread a cloud for a covering, and fire to illumine by night. (vv. 38–39) God took such good care of them. He led the way. He illumined the path. And He brought forth His people with joy, His chosen ones with a joyful shout. (v. 43)

After all the history books have been written, after time passes out of existence, only two things will remain from this world, only two things are eternal: God’s Word and people.

I recently heard an apt description of a predicament: A predicament occurs when an attorney who specializes in medical malpractice suits finds himself in need of major surgery. Now that’s a predicament.

That’s why I am extremely impressed with Moses’ response. He didn’t say, as most are prone to say, “God helps those who help themselves.” People think that despicable saying comes from the Bible, but it doesn’t. It’s from the pit. No, God helps the helpless! As long as we’re helping ourselves, who needs God? It’s when we reach the end of our tether, and we’re dangling out in space, that we finally cry out, “God, help me!”

“Oh, I see them fine,” Moses replied. “But I’m still saying to you, ‘Don’t fear!’” But Moses isn’t done. He has a second piece of counsel for his frightened people: “Stand still.” And a third: “Watch.” And a fourth: “The Lord will fight for you while you keep silent.” Did you catch all that? It’s a mouthful in any Bible translation. Read it for yourself. “Do not fear! Stand by and see the salvation of the LORD which He will accomplish for you today; for the Egyptians whom you have seen today, you will never see them again forever. The LORD will fight for you while you keep silent.” (vv. 13–14)

You know the human response to panic? First, we are afraid. Second, we run. Third, we fight. Fourth, we tell everybody. God’s counsel is just the opposite. Don’t be afraid. Stand still. Watch Him work. Keep quiet. It’s then that He does it. He takes over! He handles it exactly opposite the way we’d do it. The Lord just taps His foot, waiting for us to wait.

Historians and unbelieving archaeologists have helped us draw additional insights about this milestone event. Archaeological discoveries from obelisks and other records indicate that the Egyptians did not frequent this place for seventeen long years after this miracle took place. They held it in awe. In fact, they did not attempt to regain their ascendancy over Syria for twenty-two years after this incident. Not until the twenty-third year did they seriously try to reestablish their authority over western Syria. The message arrived back home that God had visited the Red Sea, and it remained an unfriendly place for Egyptians for a long, long time.

When God wants to break Egyptian habits, He paints His people into some impossible corners. And I have discovered that the longer the duration of the habits, the tighter the places. The more ingrained the behaviors, the more impossible the cul-de-sacs.

Chesty Puller was a highly decorated U. S. Marine Corps officer. While in command over a large number of men in combat, he inadvertently moved into an area that was crawling with the enemy. Suddenly he realized he and his men were surrounded. To the north lay a platoon of the enemy, as well as on both his flanks. To the rear, another company; all escape routes were closed off. What did Puller do? He just tightened his fist and said, “That’s outstanding. They’ll never get away this time!”

As Annie Johnson Flint wrote, Pressed out of measure and pressed to all length; Pressed so intensely it seems beyond strength. Pressed in the body and pressed in the soul; Pressed in the mind till the dark surges roll; Pressure by foes, and pressure by friends; Pressure on pressure, till life nearly ends. Pressed into loving the staff and the rod; Pressed into knowing no helper but God. Pressed into liberty where nothing clings; Pressed into faith for impossible things. Pressed into living a life in the Lord; Pressed into living the Christ-life outpoured.1

In my personal journal I once wrote this: When I panic, I run. When I run, I lose. When I lose, God waits. When I wait, He fights. When He fights, He wins. And when He wins, I learn.

Raymond Edman refers to “the discipline of delay” in his excellent book, The Disciplines of Life. He writes, “We live in a restless, impatient day. We have little time for preparation and less for meditation or worship. We feel we must be active and energetic, humanly effective; we cannot understand why inactivity, weakness, weariness, and seeming uselessness should be our lot. It all appears so foolish and futile, without plan or purpose.” He then makes this profound statement: “The delay that instructs and prepares us saves time, never loses it.”2

“Hudson Taylor knew the testing that tempers the steel of the soul. He was an invalid, home at the age of twenty-nine. After six years of intensive service in China, he settled with his little family in the east side of London. Outside interests lessened; friends began to forget him; and five long, hidden years were spent in the dreary streets of a poor part of London, where the Taylors were ‘shut up to prayer and patience.’ As the years of obscurity progressed, and when the discipline was complete, there emerged the China Inland Mission, at first only a tiny root, but destined of God to fill the land of China with gospel fruit.”3

unaware, brethren, that our fathers were all under the cloud and all passed through the sea” (1 Corinthians 10:1). The apostle emphasizes that all of the Israelites who left Egypt with Moses had seen God’s hand in great fashion and in a grand display. As we saw in the previous chapter, the Lord led them with a cloud by day and fire by night and wondrously delivered them from bondage in Egypt through the sea. All of them lived to see that mighty miracle with their own eyes. But in verse 5 the apostle tells us, “With most of them God was not well-pleased.” Don’t miss that! All of them saw the cloud. All of them went through the sea. All of them actually experienced that mighty Red Sea deliverance. But God was not well-pleased with most of them, “for they were laid low in the wilderness.”

The song was called “Grumblers” by Thoro Harris. I still remember its lyrics: In country, town, or city, some people can be found Who spend their lives in grumbling at everything around; O yes, they always grumble, no matter what we say, For these are chronic grumblers, and they grumble night and day. They grumble in the city, they grumble on the farm, They grumble at their neighbors, they think it is no harm; They grumble at their husbands, they grumble at their wives, They grumble at their children [that’s when she looked at me], but the grumbler never thrives. They grumble when it’s raining, they grumble when it’s dry, And if the crops are failing, they grumble and they sigh. They grumble at the prices and grumble when they’re high, They grumble all the year around, and they grumble till they die. [Another glance!] O they grumble on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, They grumble on Thursday too, Grumble on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, They grumble the whole week thru.1

“Why do you test the Lord?” Moses asks them. Realizing how shortsighted they were, he attempted to turn their eyes on the Lord. That’s the job of a spiritual leader by the way—to consistently and repeatedly turn his people’s eyes to the Lord.

Biblical truth works, but it must be applied, regardless of your circumstances. Humility accelerates the learning process.

Conversion is often a brief trip to the altar, but maturity is always married to time.

Life is like a coin. Spend it any way you want to, but you can spend it only once. God

Learning from the past may be hard, but continuing in ignorance is expensive.

As one of my mentors, Dr. Howard Hendricks, often says, “You can be a Fundamentalist, but you don’t have to look like it.”

The happiest people on earth ought to be those in God’s service. And they ought to look like it. We have every reason to smile more than anyone else. Even though our work is terribly serious, we ought to have more fun and have a better time doing it than anybody in any other career or calling on earth.

Because we operate under an eighteenth-century concept of so-called piety in the ministry that simply is not biblical. It is no sign of spirituality that you work fifteen to eighteen hours a day, seven days a week, and never take a vacation. No one is attracted to an unsmiling, always-grim-looking individual, especially if he never takes a break to enjoy life. You’ll crack up if you maintain such an insane schedule. It is no sign of spirituality that you groan your way through life, looking humble and wanting everybody to be impressed with your rundown, overworked, underpaid, haggard appearance. Get a life!

Ministry is not an easy calling. There are times when you must work longer than you should. And those times can occur back to back. But we don’t need to remind most pastors of the need to work harder. They need a reminder of another sort. “You’re making your job harder than it should be. Share the load. Lighten up! Your work needs to be easier. Let us help you get these things done.”

Separate the “essential” from the “additional”

Sir Edmund Hillary, the famous British mountain climber who was first to conquer Mount Everest, once said, “Even the summit of Everest is not beyond the capacity of an unassisted man. But the risks are enormous.”

In his fine book Spiritual Leadership, J. Oswald Sanders spends an entire chapter on the art of delegation. In my opinion, every Christian (leader or not), ought to study that chapter. Listen to his wise words: “The principle is that God assumes responsibility for enabling His man to fulfill every task to which He has appointed him. Now there are some self-imposed tasks which others can do better than we, and we should relinquish them. But even should they do them worse, we should still relinquish them—a severe test for the perfectionist!”

Restrain yourself more, involve yourself less

As the workload increases, the wise leader doesn’t get busier, he gets smarter. He asks for help. This is hard to do when you grow up with a ministry. When you start with a group of six or eight families, and it grows to one hundred, then three hundred, five hundred, then ultimately, fifteen hundred, the one who nurtured the original dream tends to want to keep the ministry small in philosophy. That control tendency is often reinforced by members who remember “the early days.” Yet a growing metropolitan ministry must learn to think in a metropolitan way with metropolitan dreams—not foolish, extravagant, extreme dreams, but dreams broader and much different from the ones that reigned when the family was small, simple, and tight-knit.

find it significant that when you study the life of our Lord Jesus in the Gospels, you can’t find a single place where it says Jesus was in a hurry. You never read, “Now when Jesus heard this, He immediately went into a rush. . . . ” Never happened. He got His men involved, but He never lost sight of His core values or primary mission.

God’s servants are not exempt from natural laws

An old Greek motto states, “You will break the bow if you keep it always bent.”

Jethro saw weariness on the face of his son-in-law and said, “Look, relinquish some of your duties.” Because Moses followed his father-in-law’s wise counsel, he didn’t wear out. I believe it became easier for him. Moses probably started looking younger. In fact, by the end of his life (at one-hundred-and-twenty!) it could be said of Moses, “his eye was not dim, nor was his vigor abated” (Deuteronomy 34:7).