Who Put Moses in the Basket?

Who Put Moses in the Basket?

A new king came along who didn’t know what was in the files, who didn’t care who was who. The new honcho didn’t know the history, and the good service Joseph had given to the regime. All he knew was that there were a lot of Joseph’s people. They were everywhere, and they were growing in numbers. And they were foreigners, guest workers, useful but they had no official status. No standing in the land of Egypt. Their loyalty was questionable. The king was anxious, worried. What if they were invaded. Would Joseph’s people play ball? Would they serve the Egyptians or would they try to overturn the government, try to escape? The escape of the guest workers would be the worst calamity because the wealth of the regime depended on their work. The bottom of the social ladder are devoted to building monuments for the super rich.

The King has a plan – work them so hard they won’t have time to organize. Work them so long they wont have the energy to reflect on their grievances. Work them to the bone so that they will be exhausted, too exhausted to love each other, and grow their families. They were assigned to build supply cities – great cities with great store houses. The ruling class needed a place to store their wealth, places to hold the good until the market price was right and the biggest profit could be made. The ruthless taskmasters drove the workers hard, but that wasn’t enough to keep them in line.

The King’s next plan – control the population. A little quiet genocide. The midwives were ordered to kill the newborn boys. But they had the courage to disregard that Royal command. Somehow the population of children continued to grow. When they were called in for questioning they didn’t confess, and they didn’t rat out anyone else. Shiprah and Puah told the King what he already believed – these foreigners are strong and vigorous, and they are multiplying.

The King’s next plan – send in the militia. He orders his men to grab the baby boys from their parents arms and throw them in to the river, drown the lot of them. This seems to be an effective strategy because desperate parents are trying to protect their very vulnerable infants. One nameless mother had a bonnie lad that she nursed tenderly until he got too big, to boisterous to safely hide from the marauding militia.

This loving, clever mother made a plan of her own. She made a basket safe, waterproof and comfortable, and put her dear child inside. She took it to the edge of the river, and set the boy’s sister to watch over him. She must have known when the King’s daughter came to the river, and what part of the river she favored. She must have known her little boy’s only chance was to come under the protection of the rich and powerful. She must have had a hint that the King’s daughter was a woman of courage and compassion. This desperate mother must have known that the only way to save her little boy’s life was to surrender him to the same regime that was trying to kill him. And her plan worked.

So who put baby Moses in the basket? If he didn’t belong to a class of nobodies, a community of landless stateless folks, immigrants with no legal status, he wouldn’t be at risk of death. The people who make the rules about who belongs and whose life is worth while put him in the basket in the river of death. The people who needed complacent and compliant farm laborers and construction workers to maintain their standard of living put him in the basket in the river of death. The people in uniform who followed orders directing them to murder defenseless babies put him in the basket in the river of death.

And Shiprah and Puah who defied the King and lived gave courage to desperate parents put him in that basket in the river of life. The mother who carefully crafted his little ark, and carefully set it on the edge of reeds where he had a hope of liberation, that faithful mom put her babe in a basket in the river of life. The sister who stood alert and watched, and danced for joy when an agent of salvation came along, she made sure that the basket was in a life giving river. And the princess. She knew the rules, the commands, the directives. She knew score. She knew from the face of that baby boy that he was no Egyptian child. She knew the anxiety in the little girls face, and the relief. The princess drew the baby from the life giving waters, and gave the child back to his mother to be raised. The Princess gave the boy her protection, and gave the family protection, and income. The Princess makes alliance with the nobodies against her father, against her own interests.

And who else put this child in the basket? This whole story is about the way in which a family blessed by God becomes a people blessed by God. No longer is the name of Joseph remembered in the land. But the nobodies remember their ancestors. The nobodies remember the promises made to the adventurous men who were their forefathers, and the courageous women who were their foremothers. The nobodies remembered the Original Blessing – that their God is the God who blessed the whole of creation – blessed ab initio, from the beginning, and blessed again after the Great Flood subsided. The nobodies remember that God’s blessing cannot be hijacked or squelched. The nobodies know that they are the agents of God’s blessing, that through their courageous acts children shall live. If you save one life you save the world. Oscar Schindler knew this. Andre Trocme knew this. Those who sheltered their neighbors in Rwanda and Burundi and Sarajevo knew this. God is in the business of saving the whole blessed and beloved world. And so am I. And so are you. Take courage, and pull a child from the river. AMEN.