Moses — An Example

VIII. Moses — An Example

VIII.
MOSES

AN EXAMPLE

“By faith Moses, when he was come to years, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter:

“Choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season;

“Esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt: for he had respect unto the recompense of the reward.”—Hebrews xi. 24-26.

THE characters of God’s most eminent saints, as drawn and described in the Bible, form a most useful part of Holy Scripture. Abstract doctrines, and principles, and precepts, are all most valuable in their way; but after all, nothing is more helpful than a pattern or example. Do we want to know what practical holiness is? Let us sit down and study the picture of an eminently holy man. I propose in this paper to set before my readers the history of a man who lived by faith, and left us a pattern of what faith can do in promoting holiness of character. To all who want to know what “living by faith” means, I offer Moses as an example.

The eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, from which my text is taken, is a great chapter: it deserves to be printed in golden letters. I can well believe it must have been most cheering and encouraging to a converted Jew. I suppose no members of the early Church found so much difficulty in a profession of Christianity as the Hebrews did. The way was narrow to all, but preeminently so to them. The cross was heavy to all but surely they had to carry double weight. And this chapter would refresh them like a cordial—it would be as “wine to those that be of heavy hearts.” Its words would “be pleasant as the honey-comb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones.” (Prov. xxxi. 6; xvi. 24.)

The three verses I am going to explain are far from being the least interesting in the chapter. Indeed I think few, if any, have so strong a claim on our attention. And I will explain why I say so.

It seems to me that the work of faith described in the story of Moses comes home more especially to our own case. The men of 136God who are named in the former part of the chapter are all examples to us beyond question. But we cannot literally do what most of them did, however much we may drink into their spirit. We are not called upon to offer a literal sacrifice like Abel—or to build a literal ark like Noah—or to leave our country literally, and dwell in tents, and offer up our Isaac like Abraham. But the faith of Moses comes nearer to us. It seems to operate in a way more familiar to our own experience. It made him take up a line of conduct such as we must sometimes take up ourselves in the present day, each in our own walk of life, if we would be consistent Christians, And for this reason I think these three verses deserve more than ordinary consideration.

Now I have nothing but the simplest things to say about them. I shall only try to show the greatness of the things Moses did, and the principle on which he did them. And then perhaps we shall be better prepared for the practical instruction which the verses appear to hold out to every one who will receive it.

I. First, then, I will speak of what Moses gave up and refused.

Moses gave up three things for the sake of his soul. He felt that his soul would not be saved if he kept them—so he gave them up. And in so doing, I say that he made three of the greatest sacrifices that man’s heart can possibly make. Let us see.

(1) He gave up rank and greatness.

“He refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter.” We all know his history. The daughter of Pharaoh had preserved his life, when he was an infant. She had gone further than that: she had adopted him and educated him as her own son.

If some writers of history may be trusted, she was Pharaoh’s only child. Some go so far as to say that in the common order of things, Moses would one day have been King of Egypt!4040   In Eastern countries the liberty to adopt children who are not blood-relatives, and to give them the privileges of sons, is notoriously carried out most extensively. That may be, or may not; we cannot tell. It is enough for us to know that, from his connection with Pharaoh’s daughter, Moses might have been, if he had pleased, a very great man. If he had been content with the position in which he found himself at the Egyptian court, he might easily have been among the first (if not the very first) in all the land of Egypt.

Let us think, for a moment, how great this temptation was.

Here was a man of like passions with ourselves. He might have had as much greatness as earth can well give. Rank, power, place, honour, titles, dignities—all were before him, and within his grasp. These are the things for which many men are continually struggling. These are the prizes which there is an incessant race in the world around us to obtain. To be somebody, to be looked 137up to, to raise themselves in the scale of society, to get a handle to their names—these are the very things for which many sacrifice time, and thought, and health, and life itself. But Moses would not have them as a gift. He turned his back upon them. He refused them. He gave them up!

(2) And more than this—he refused pleasure.

Pleasure of every kind, no doubt, was at his feet, if he had liked to take it up—sensual pleasure, intellectual pleasure, social pleasure—whatever could strike his fancy. Egypt was a land of artists, a residence of learned men, a resort of everyone who had skill, or science of any description. There was nothing which could feed the “lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, or the pride of life,” which one in the place of Moses might not easily have commanded and possessed as his own. (1 John ii. 16.)

Let us think again, how great was this temptation also.

Pleasure, be it remembered, is the one thing for which millions live. They differ, perhaps, in their views of what makes up real pleasure, but all agree in seeking first and foremost to obtain it. Pleasure and enjoyment in the holidays is the grand object to which a schoolboy looks forward. Pleasure and satisfaction in making himself independent is the mark on which the young man in business fixes his eye. Pleasure and ease in retiring from business with a fortune is the aim which the merchant sets before him. Pleasure and bodily comfort at his own home is the sum of the poor man’s wishes. Pleasure and fresh excitement in politics, in travelling, in amusements, in company, in books—this is the goal towards which the rich man is straining. Pleasure is the shadow which all alike are hunting—high and low, rich and poor, old and young, one with another—each, perhaps, pretending to despise his neighbour for seeking it—each in his own way seeking it for himself—each secretly wondering that he does not find it—each firmly persuaded that somewhere or other it is to be found. This was the cup that Moses had before his lips. He might have drunk as deeply as he liked of earthly pleasure; but he would not have it. He turned his back upon it. He refused it. He gave it up!

(3) And more than this—he refused riches.

“The treasures in Egypt” is an expression that seems to tell of boundless wealth which Moses might have enjoyed, had he been content to remain with Pharaoh’s daughter. We may well suppose these “treasures” would have been a mighty fortune. Enough is still remaining in Egypt to give us some faint idea of the money at its King’s disposal. The pyramids, and obelisks, and temples, and statues are still standing there as witnesses. The ruins at Carnac, and Luxor, and Denderah, and many other places, are still the mightiest buildings in the world. They testify to this day 138that the man who gave up Egyptian wealth, gave up something which even our English minds would find it hard to reckon up and estimate.

Let us think once more, how great was this temptation.

Let us consider, for a moment, the power of money—the immense influence that “the love of money” obtains over men’s minds. Let us look around us and observe how men covet it, and what amazing pains and trouble they will go through to obtain it. Tell them of an island many thousand miles away, where something may be found which may be profitable, if imported, and at once a fleet of ships will be sent to get it. Show them a way to make 1 per cent, more of their money, and they will reckon you among the wisest of men—they will almost fall down and worship you. To possess money seems to hide defects—to cover over faults—to clothe a man with virtues. People can get over much, if you are rich! But here is a man who might have been rich, and would not. He would not have Egyptian treasures. He turned his back upon them. He refused them. He gave them up!

Such were the things that Moses refused—rank, pleasure, riches, all three at once.

Add to all this that he did it deliberately. He did not refuse these things in a hasty fit of youthful excitement.—He was forty years old. He was in the prime of life. He knew what he was about. He was a highly educated man, “learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians.” (Acts vii. 22.) He could weigh both sides of the question.

Add to it that he did not refuse them because he was obliged. He was not like the dying man, who tells us “he craves nothing more in this world;” and why?—Because he is leaving the world, and cannot keep it. He was not like the pauper, who makes a merit of necessity, and says “he does not want riches”; and why?—Because he cannot get them. He was not like the old man who boasts that “he has laid aside worldly pleasures;” and why?—Because he is worn out, and cannot enjoy them. No! Moses refused what he might have enjoyed. Rank, pleasure, and riches did not leave him, but he left them.

And then judge whether I am not right in saying that his was one of the greatest sacrifices mortal man ever made. Others have refused much, but none, I think, so much as Moses. Others have done well in the way of self-sacrifice and self-denial, but he excels them all.

II. And now let me go on to the second thing I wish to consider. I will speak of what Moses chose.

I think his choices as wonderful as his refusals. He chose three 139things for his soul’s sake. The road to salvation led through them, and he followed it; and in so doing he chose three of the last things that man is ever disposed to take up.

(1) For one thing he chose suffering and affliction.

He left the ease and comfort of Pharaoh’s court, and openly took part with the children of Israel. They were an enslaved and persecuted people—an object of distrust, suspicion, and hatred; and anyone who befriended them was sure to taste something of the bitter cup they were daily drinking.

To the eye of sense there seemed no chance of their deliverance from Egyptian bondage, without a long and doubtful struggle. A settled home and country for them must have appeared a thing never likely to be obtained, however much desired. In fact, if ever man seemed to be choosing pain, trials, poverty, want, distress, anxiety, perhaps even death, with his eyes open, Moses was that man.

Let us think how wonderful was this choice.

Flesh and blood naturally shrink from pain. It is in us all to do so. We draw back by a kind of instinct from suffering, and avoid it if we can. If two courses of action are set before us, which both seem right, we generally take that which is the least disagreeable to flesh and blood. We spend our days in fear and anxiety when we think affliction is coming near us, and use every means to escape it. And when it does come, we often fret and murmur under the burden of it; and if we can only bear it patiently, we count it a great matter.

But look here! Here is a man of like passions with ourselves, and he actually chooses affliction! Moses saw the cup of suffering that was before him if he left Pharaoh’s court, and he chose it, preferred it, and took it up.