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Assimilation, Slavery, and Midwives
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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
Assimilation, Slavery, and Midwives
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
We're beginning a teaching series through the book of Exodus that will take us into 2027. Exodus is the second book in the Bible, and the word itself simply means "an exit or a departure." The central event of this book is God's people exiting from slavery in Egypt and heading toward God's promises for them.
This isn't just an ancient story—it's incredibly relevant for us today because it introduces a foundational theme: we have a God who loves to save people. This salvation motif appears throughout Scripture, beginning with Israel's deliverance.
As Andrew Wilson writes in Echoes of Exodus, the story follows three elements:
God doesn't just rescue you from something old—he transforms you into someone new. If you're a Christian, this is your story too. You were once enslaved to sin, but God didn't just rescue you. He gave you a brand new identity, promises to carry, and his very presence.
When reading any Old Testament story, always ask: How does this point to Jesus? The Old Testament points forward to what Christ would do. Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his only son prefigures a Father who would one day sacrifice his only begotten Son, Jesus. Noah's flood story points to Christ saving us from the flood of sin. Every Old Testament book reveals Christ in some way.
Exodus is a story about a nation being delivered from slavery, but it also points to Christ, who comes to save us from our slavery to sin.
Let's examine Exodus 1. At the time of this narrative, Egypt is the world superpower. The Egyptian Empire lasted 3,000 years—when Moses lived, the pyramids were already a thousand years old.
Jacob and his family came to Egypt as refugees from famine. Joseph, who had become a prince in Egypt, opened the door for his family—about 70 people—to find refuge, salvation, and sustenance. God's plan was never for Israel to stay permanently; Egypt was meant to be a temporary stopover on their journey toward God's promises.
But what happened? They settled down. They spent 200 years as free people in Egypt, assimilating into the culture around them.
There were good reasons for this. The Israelites were given some of the best farmland in Egypt—the land near the Nile River, which National Geographic calls probably the best farmland in the world. They prospered. They lived a good, middle to upper-class life. They worked as free people for the pharaohs, even receiving good wages: oil, grain, gold, wine, and excellent Egyptian beer.
But here's the critical question: Was God in their prosperity? Just because you're prosperous doesn't mean God's presence is there.
The Israelites became so assimilated into Egyptian culture that you couldn't tell them apart from the Egyptians. The Egyptian gods became their gods. Egyptian practices became their practices. Egyptian priorities became their priorities. They no longer knew God.
God later spoke through the prophet Ezekiel, saying he had commanded them: "Each of you, get rid of the vile images you've set your eyes on. Do not defile yourself with the idols of Egypt. I am the Lord your God." But they rebelled. They didn't get rid of these idols. So God had to do more than geographically relocate his people—he had to "cardiographically" relocate them. He didn't just need to take them out of Egypt; he needed to take Egypt out of them.
Here's the question for each of us: Can people tell you apart from the culture in which you live? Or have you assimilated?
Are your life, priorities, finances, sexual ethics, and the gods you worship any different than the world around you? Or have you become so settled and comfortable in our culture that there is patently no difference between you and those who don't yet know Christ?
John Calvin said the human heart is an idol factory. Your idols are the things you give your time and resources to—the things you believe will bring you ultimate happiness and peace. They might include:
Good things become God things when you start trusting them to save you instead of trusting Jesus.
Psalm 139 contains a powerful prayer: "Lord, test me and know me and see if there's any offensive way in me." This prayer opens the idol factory of your heart and invites God to examine it. When I prayed this prayer once, the Lord revealed an "approval idol" in my life—I was living for the praise of people more than the praise of God. My security had become tethered to getting affirmation from others rather than living in the affirmation already mine in Christ.
When you pray such prayers, God often gives you opportunities to work them out. He removes the very thing you were trusting in, so you can learn to trust only him.
Sexual Ethics: How are your dating or courtship practices different from the world? The right question isn't "How much can I get away with?" but "How much can I glorify God?" How can you show the world there's a different standard to live by?
Politics: We live in a politically polarized moment, and it's easy for politics to become an idol. Don't define yourself as a lefty, righty, communist, nationalist, or libertarian. Define yourself as someone who belongs to Jesus and follows Christ. The gospel itself is profoundly political—it declares that Jesus has been crowned emperor of everything. But make sure your politics don't become your defining characteristic. Every human party and organization is flawed, but there is One who isn't: Jesus.
Materialism and Success: Many parents sacrifice their children on the altar of their drive to succeed. We buy the lie that more money and status are better for our kids. But what's actually better for your children is your presence in their life. Your presence as a parent is the greatest gift you can give them.
Individualism: Individualism shows up in countless ways—like arriving late to church because we're thinking about ourselves rather than the newcomer arriving early, scared and alone, looking for someone to connect with. Church is a privilege, not an obligation we fit around our schedules.
Peter writes:
You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's very own possession. Dear friends, I warn you as temporary residents and foreigners, keep away from worldly desires that wage war against your very soul. Be careful to live properly among your unbelieving neighbors.
We're called to regard ourselves as temporary foreigners and aliens in this world. You have maybe 70, 80, or 90 years on planet Earth, but you're just passing through. This is a blip on the landscape of eternity. Don't settle down. Don't unpack your stuff too much.
You're in the world, but not of the world. You're called to a future with Jesus—that's your true home. Philippians 3 reminds us: "We are now citizens of heaven." Where Christ is, that's where you belong. This truth should affect the way you live and think about yourself.
God wants to take you to a land full of promise, glory, and his presence. Don't get stuck in Egypt. That's not his plan for you.
Eventually, a new Pharaoh came to power who didn't know Joseph. Threatened by Israel's numbers and strength, he enslaved them. The Israelites, who had been free for 200 years, suddenly found all their freedoms stripped away. They became a slave nation, subjected to crushing labor and brutal slave drivers.
Here's a critical principle: What you tolerate will eventually dominate.
How does someone get trapped in pornography addiction? It starts with the first click—a behavior you tolerate and don't bring under the obedience of Christ. When you tolerate something, it becomes a lifestyle, and soon it enslaves you.
How does an extramarital affair happen? It begins with that first secret text message you hide from your partner.
How does spiritual apathy grip us? Through a hundred little micro-decisions: "I won't pray today. I'll skip my Bible reading. I don't need to go to the prayer meeting." These small tolerances become a lifestyle that enslaves you spiritually.
What you tolerate will dominate you—and not just you, but your whole family and environment.
But God begins his rescue plan in an unexpected way. He doesn't start with a mighty king or a powerful army. Instead:
Pharaoh gave this order to the Hebrew midwives, Shiprah and Puah: "When you help the Hebrew women give birth, if the baby's a boy, kill him. If it's a girl, let her live." But because the midwives feared God, they refused to obey the king's orders, and they allowed the boys to live.
God's rescue plan started with two unseen women who are specifically named and honored in this passage. Remarkably, we're not even given the Pharaoh's name, but these two women are singled out for particular honor as instruments of God's redemption.
Before we even meet Moses in the next chapter, God starts his redemption plan through two women who feared him and obeyed him despite the cost. This is so like God.
Think about Mary, a teenage girl told she would bear the Son of God. Think about Esther, a nobody who stood before the king of Persia and risked her life to rescue her nation. Think about Mary Magdalene, delivered from seven demons, who became the first witness of Jesus' resurrection—the Catholics call her "the apostle to the apostles."
So often in salvation history, God starts with faithful women—people who are hidden, unseen, powerless, and have no status. God loves to begin his redemptive work through the least and the forgotten.
Dennis Prager said: "People fear those who are more powerful than they are. Therefore, the only way not to fear powerful people is to fear God. Fear of God is a liberating emotion, freeing one from a disabling fear of evil."
The real heroes of this world are rarely found on platforms or social media feeds. They're found in hidden people who fear God and do what he says. If you're one of those people, let me tell you: you are great in the eyes of God. Your hidden obedience can lead to a whole redemption story for entire people groups beyond yourself if you just keep saying yes in secret.
Praise God for the midwives, the teachers, the makeup artists, the mothers, the mechanics—all the obedient people who love God in secret and make a difference. And that's where God's redemption story starts in the book of Exodus.
We're beginning a teaching series through the book of Exodus that will take us into 2027. Exodus is the second book in the Bible, and the word itself simply means "an exit or a departure." The central event of this book is God's people exiting from slavery in Egypt and heading toward God's promises for them.
This isn't just an ancient story—it's incredibly relevant for us today because it introduces a foundational theme: we have a God who loves to save people. This salvation motif appears throughout Scripture, beginning with Israel's deliverance.
As Andrew Wilson writes in Echoes of Exodus, the story follows three elements:
God doesn't just rescue you from something old—he transforms you into someone new. If you're a Christian, this is your story too. You were once enslaved to sin, but God didn't just rescue you. He gave you a brand new identity, promises to carry, and his very presence.
When reading any Old Testament story, always ask: How does this point to Jesus? The Old Testament points forward to what Christ would do. Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his only son prefigures a Father who would one day sacrifice his only begotten Son, Jesus. Noah's flood story points to Christ saving us from the flood of sin. Every Old Testament book reveals Christ in some way.
Exodus is a story about a nation being delivered from slavery, but it also points to Christ, who comes to save us from our slavery to sin.
Let's examine Exodus 1. At the time of this narrative, Egypt is the world superpower. The Egyptian Empire lasted 3,000 years—when Moses lived, the pyramids were already a thousand years old.
Jacob and his family came to Egypt as refugees from famine. Joseph, who had become a prince in Egypt, opened the door for his family—about 70 people—to find refuge, salvation, and sustenance. God's plan was never for Israel to stay permanently; Egypt was meant to be a temporary stopover on their journey toward God's promises.
But what happened? They settled down. They spent 200 years as free people in Egypt, assimilating into the culture around them.
There were good reasons for this. The Israelites were given some of the best farmland in Egypt—the land near the Nile River, which National Geographic calls probably the best farmland in the world. They prospered. They lived a good, middle to upper-class life. They worked as free people for the pharaohs, even receiving good wages: oil, grain, gold, wine, and excellent Egyptian beer.
But here's the critical question: Was God in their prosperity? Just because you're prosperous doesn't mean God's presence is there.
The Israelites became so assimilated into Egyptian culture that you couldn't tell them apart from the Egyptians. The Egyptian gods became their gods. Egyptian practices became their practices. Egyptian priorities became their priorities. They no longer knew God.
God later spoke through the prophet Ezekiel, saying he had commanded them: "Each of you, get rid of the vile images you've set your eyes on. Do not defile yourself with the idols of Egypt. I am the Lord your God." But they rebelled. They didn't get rid of these idols. So God had to do more than geographically relocate his people—he had to "cardiographically" relocate them. He didn't just need to take them out of Egypt; he needed to take Egypt out of them.
Here's the question for each of us: Can people tell you apart from the culture in which you live? Or have you assimilated?
Are your life, priorities, finances, sexual ethics, and the gods you worship any different than the world around you? Or have you become so settled and comfortable in our culture that there is patently no difference between you and those who don't yet know Christ?
John Calvin said the human heart is an idol factory. Your idols are the things you give your time and resources to—the things you believe will bring you ultimate happiness and peace. They might include:
Good things become God things when you start trusting them to save you instead of trusting Jesus.
Psalm 139 contains a powerful prayer: "Lord, test me and know me and see if there's any offensive way in me." This prayer opens the idol factory of your heart and invites God to examine it. When I prayed this prayer once, the Lord revealed an "approval idol" in my life—I was living for the praise of people more than the praise of God. My security had become tethered to getting affirmation from others rather than living in the affirmation already mine in Christ.
When you pray such prayers, God often gives you opportunities to work them out. He removes the very thing you were trusting in, so you can learn to trust only him.
Sexual Ethics: How are your dating or courtship practices different from the world? The right question isn't "How much can I get away with?" but "How much can I glorify God?" How can you show the world there's a different standard to live by?
Politics: We live in a politically polarized moment, and it's easy for politics to become an idol. Don't define yourself as a lefty, righty, communist, nationalist, or libertarian. Define yourself as someone who belongs to Jesus and follows Christ. The gospel itself is profoundly political—it declares that Jesus has been crowned emperor of everything. But make sure your politics don't become your defining characteristic. Every human party and organization is flawed, but there is One who isn't: Jesus.
Materialism and Success: Many parents sacrifice their children on the altar of their drive to succeed. We buy the lie that more money and status are better for our kids. But what's actually better for your children is your presence in their life. Your presence as a parent is the greatest gift you can give them.
Individualism: Individualism shows up in countless ways—like arriving late to church because we're thinking about ourselves rather than the newcomer arriving early, scared and alone, looking for someone to connect with. Church is a privilege, not an obligation we fit around our schedules.
Peter writes:
You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's very own possession. Dear friends, I warn you as temporary residents and foreigners, keep away from worldly desires that wage war against your very soul. Be careful to live properly among your unbelieving neighbors.
We're called to regard ourselves as temporary foreigners and aliens in this world. You have maybe 70, 80, or 90 years on planet Earth, but you're just passing through. This is a blip on the landscape of eternity. Don't settle down. Don't unpack your stuff too much.
You're in the world, but not of the world. You're called to a future with Jesus—that's your true home. Philippians 3 reminds us: "We are now citizens of heaven." Where Christ is, that's where you belong. This truth should affect the way you live and think about yourself.
God wants to take you to a land full of promise, glory, and his presence. Don't get stuck in Egypt. That's not his plan for you.
Eventually, a new Pharaoh came to power who didn't know Joseph. Threatened by Israel's numbers and strength, he enslaved them. The Israelites, who had been free for 200 years, suddenly found all their freedoms stripped away. They became a slave nation, subjected to crushing labor and brutal slave drivers.
Here's a critical principle: What you tolerate will eventually dominate.
How does someone get trapped in pornography addiction? It starts with the first click—a behavior you tolerate and don't bring under the obedience of Christ. When you tolerate something, it becomes a lifestyle, and soon it enslaves you.
How does an extramarital affair happen? It begins with that first secret text message you hide from your partner.
How does spiritual apathy grip us? Through a hundred little micro-decisions: "I won't pray today. I'll skip my Bible reading. I don't need to go to the prayer meeting." These small tolerances become a lifestyle that enslaves you spiritually.
What you tolerate will dominate you—and not just you, but your whole family and environment.
But God begins his rescue plan in an unexpected way. He doesn't start with a mighty king or a powerful army. Instead:
Pharaoh gave this order to the Hebrew midwives, Shiprah and Puah: "When you help the Hebrew women give birth, if the baby's a boy, kill him. If it's a girl, let her live." But because the midwives feared God, they refused to obey the king's orders, and they allowed the boys to live.
God's rescue plan started with two unseen women who are specifically named and honored in this passage. Remarkably, we're not even given the Pharaoh's name, but these two women are singled out for particular honor as instruments of God's redemption.
Before we even meet Moses in the next chapter, God starts his redemption plan through two women who feared him and obeyed him despite the cost. This is so like God.
Think about Mary, a teenage girl told she would bear the Son of God. Think about Esther, a nobody who stood before the king of Persia and risked her life to rescue her nation. Think about Mary Magdalene, delivered from seven demons, who became the first witness of Jesus' resurrection—the Catholics call her "the apostle to the apostles."
So often in salvation history, God starts with faithful women—people who are hidden, unseen, powerless, and have no status. God loves to begin his redemptive work through the least and the forgotten.
Dennis Prager said: "People fear those who are more powerful than they are. Therefore, the only way not to fear powerful people is to fear God. Fear of God is a liberating emotion, freeing one from a disabling fear of evil."
The real heroes of this world are rarely found on platforms or social media feeds. They're found in hidden people who fear God and do what he says. If you're one of those people, let me tell you: you are great in the eyes of God. Your hidden obedience can lead to a whole redemption story for entire people groups beyond yourself if you just keep saying yes in secret.
Praise God for the midwives, the teachers, the makeup artists, the mothers, the mechanics—all the obedient people who love God in secret and make a difference. And that's where God's redemption story starts in the book of Exodus.
