Unto a woman is born a child, Moses. But the timing is unfortunate, for this is at a time when Pharaoh has ordered all newborn Hebrew males thrown into the Nile. So Moses' mother hides him for three months until she cannot hide him any longer. She's got her back against the wall, knows she's got to do something, and that's when she and her daughter (Moses' sister) cook up this plan.
They waterproof a wicker cradle to transform it into a miniature Noah's Ark. Into it goes baby Moses. They place the wicker basket in the reeds at the water's edge, making it appear that it's washed up by an act of providence. The mother and the sister are aware that the Pharaoh's daughter, the princess, regularly bathes there, so they are fairly confident she'll find the infant Moses.
But here's the drama. What'll this princess do upon finding the babe in the basket? She's an Egyptian and, perhaps even worse, she's Pharaoh's daughter. Will she defy her father's directive? Will she push the cradle out into the Nile and watch it either sink below the surface or float downstream? Will she summon her guards? What will the princess do? Moses' mother and sister, after they leave the basket in the reeds at the river's edge, try to console each other and try to convince themselves to trust in God.
Sis is a little less trusting, apparently, and, according to scripture, stands "at a distance to see what would be done to him." She peeks anxiously through the high weeds at the princess' party.
Moses' mother is so worked up she can't bear to watch, so she waits at home, saying her prayers and trying not to cry. It's awful, and the waiting for news hurts. What will the princess do?
The princess sees the basket and sends her maid to fetch it. When she opens it, the baby is crying. She feels sorry for him and holds him in her arms and rocks him just as you or I would have done. She knows full well this is a Hebrew child, for she says aloud in a voice that Moses' sister can hear, "This is one of the Hebrews' children."
Uh-oh. Sis, maybe spur-of-the-moment or maybe as part of a plan, leaps out of the bushes and blurts out, "Shall I get you a wet nurse?"
The princess, who in all likelihood can see through the holes in this plan, can say no. She can choose to obey her father the Pharaoh and have this baby killed. But she looks at the crying Moses, and she looks at the pleading of Moses' sister's eyes, and she nods at the girl and says, "Go."
No need to tell Moses' sister twice. She's gone, leaving only a trail of dust in her wake. As she nears home, she starts yelling out the good news to her mother, "Mama, mama! He's okay, he's alive! And she needs a wet nurse. You, his own mother, can be his wet nurse!"
Moses' mother springs to her feet and dashes back toward the river bank, arriving out of breath and trying to gasp out the words, "I'm a wet nurse; I'm a wet nurse," at the princess. Imagine her joy when the princess hands her the baby, and when Moses' mother puts him to her breast. It's actually sort of a resurrection story, isn't it -- an Old Testament account of God's restoring one's life?
Think about it. When we human beings are faced with the threat of our own death or the death of a loved one, how do we react? Generally, we try desperately either to extend life or to learn what is beyond -- that is, we seek knowledge; we've got to know. We feel helpless, powerless. So what can help us? Maybe a peek at God's power over Death.
Here's another story, this one from our present day, and true.
Todd was two months into pastoring his first church. He'd served communion once, never done a baptism or funeral.
The hospital's patient listing showed a 22-year-old from Todd's parish area admitted to intensive care. Todd didn't know the name, but he knew enough to visit anyone from his area. The boy's name was Gary, and his spinal cord had been severed in a car accident. He was paralyzed from the neck down and couldn't speak. When Todd saw him that first day, Gary had breathing devices and IV tubes everyywhere. It wasn't a good time to talk, so Todd said hello and left, feeling helpless. Over the next month Todd visited Gary daily.
One night Gary's mother called Todd from the hospital. The doctors gave Gary less than two days to live. Todd left for the hospital. When he arrived, Gary's mother fell into Todd's arms and wept. Todd wept, too, and felt even more powerless to affect things now. He asked if the doctors had told Gary he was dying. They said no and asked if Todd would tell him. He agreed before he could think twice. "Gary," Todd said, "I want you to know that God loves you. In the Bible there's a promise of eternal life. It's there and I believe it. Somehow, I believe it. But it's hard to read it and not know it through feeling it in your heart. But right now I feel it; I know it. And it tells me that nothing -- not life, nor death, nor anything else in all of creation -- can separate us in a love like ours -- mine, yours, and God's." They were both crying now. "As a friend, I've got to be honest with you, Gary -- you're going to die." Todd's own words cut through his heart like a burning knife. But Gary seemed glad to know finally. They cried more and Todd went to Gary's mother. "We don't know what'll happen to Gary," she said. "Jesus will have to decide." "What do you mean?" Todd asked. "Gary's never been baptized," she said. "I can do it," Pastor Todd said without flinching. "Gary, do you want to be baptized?" Todd asked. Gary nodded yes with his eyes, so Todd stepped to the nurse's station. "Could I have some water?" he asked. "It's for a baptism." The nurse filled a plastic cough medicine cup to the brim with water and handed it to Todd. He took it to Gary's room.
"Gary," Todd asked, not knowing any of the words to the liturgy for the baptismal service, "Do you profess Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?" Gary's eyes nodded yes. "Then I baptize you into the Christian faith in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost." And with that Pastor Todd poured the medicine cup of water back over Gary's forehead where it ran down through his brown, tousled hair. Suddenly, in a time of no hope and numbing, paralyzing fear, there was hope, and the three of them broke out in broad smiles and laughed and wept with joy. In that instant the three of them knew in their hearts the truth of the resurrection and its hope.1
Back to the question we started with. When we're faced with death -- our own or the death of a loved one -- our human response is either to try desperately to extend life or to learn what's beyond (knowledge, assurances). We're often paralyzed by fear. What then shall we do? We must watch for signs of God's power, power even over Death, for we can then draw strength from those incidents. They can help us to have faith.
Here's a third story. It comes from the New Testament (John 20:11-18). Mary Magdalene has gone to the tomb where Jesus' body has been laid after the crucifixion. She is weeping so hard that she mistakes the risen Christ for a gardener. After a few moments, she recognizes her Lord, and he tells her to announce to his brothers that he is ascending to the Father. Then the text says, "Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, 'I have seen the Lord. I have seen the Lord.' " Again, Death has no power over our God, my friends.
Moses' mother and sister might have chosen to explain away God's saving act, but they didn't, recalling instead that miraculous moment when Moses was put to his own mother's breast -- God's power over death. Seen through the eyes of faith, it gave them strength and hope.
Pastor Todd, Gary, and Gary's mother might have rationalized away the miraculous joy of the moment of Gary's baptism, when hope sprang forth. But they didn't. They, too, caught a glimpse of God's awesome power, power even over Death. They understood the experience through the eyes of faith.
Mary Magdalene, at the tomb on Easter morn, saw with the eyes of faith, too. She caught a vision of God's power over Death, and it changed her life in such a way that she then went forth and changed the lives of others. We, too, might explain away those moments when God's power over Death is revealed. But we mustn't. We must look for them, witness to them and their transformative power, and keep telling our stories -- the way Moses' mother and sister did, the way Pastor Todd and Gary's mother did, the way Mary Magdalene and the disciples did. God is repeatedly and continually working powerful miracles in our lives. We must see them through the eyes of faith, and as a people of God, we must share the wonder of our God with the world.
1. Steve Burt, "The Power Of The Resurrection Over Death," 56 Lectionary Stories For Preaching (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing, 1993), pp. 51-52.