By Faith, Moses

Please turn in the Word of God to Hebrews 11, Hebrews 11. Seems too obvious to the point that it shouldn’t need to be said, but you’re more than your stuff. And the world wants to find ways of measuring. We’re always trying to find ways of measuring. And we measure one another by the revenue of our businesses, the income that we bring in, by maybe the numbers of people connected to our association, institution—always trying to measure things.

And yet, how do you measure real contentment and peace? How do you measure certainty in the day of God’s judgment? How do you measure spiritual prosperity? The Lord Jesus, by many measures, had none of the things we like to quantify. The foxes have holes, the birds of the air have their nests, the Son of Man hath not where to lay his head. When there’s need to pay taxes, he sends Peter to go fishing.

So don’t fall into the trap. Make sure that you’re making the primary choice that needs to be made, and that is to have Christ—to love Him, to serve Him. He will never let you down. He may not always give you what you’re looking for, but He will never let you down. And if you put Him first, you will find the satisfaction that comes by prioritizing His will above your own. And you’ll find there that that’s where true health is. I know how we need to be reminded of it.

We are in Hebrews. We’ve been going through Hebrews for some time. And we are—last Lord’s Day, we dealt with a huge, fairly significant chunk from verse 8 through verse 22—and I did that intentionally, trying to pull all the patriarchs in and to see the forward-looking aspect. Now, that’s not exclusive to that section. You’ll see it here in the section we’re looking at.

Today—and really always—the idea of faith looking forward, looking beyond what is seen, that’s really the idea. You see that ahead of verse 1: Faith is a substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. So there always is this future aspect to evangelical faith. We’re not to be tied solely to what’s happening now. We’re not to be governing or having our decisions made by what is occurring in the present; faith, as it rests in God’s Word, governs even when it seems not to make any sense to the natural world or the natural response that we may have.

So that’s always true, but I wanted to drive that focus home in looking at Abraham and the other patriarchs mentioned. We come to Moses, and so we pick up at verse 23—and we’ll look through verse 28. Sometimes people pull in what comes after as well—the passing through the Red Sea, the coming down of the walls of Jericho—but I wanted to stop at verse 28.

And so we’ll read from verse 23. Let’s hear the Word of God.

  By faith Moses, when he was born, was hid three months of his parents because they saw he was a proper child. They were not afraid of the king’s commandment.
  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 onto the recompense of the reward.
  By faith, he forsook Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king, for he endured as seeing him who is invisible.
  Through faith he kept the Passover, and the sprinkling of blood, lest he that destroyed the firstborn should touch them.
  Amen.

We have read here the infallible and errant word of the living God. It speaks as if God himself was here to speak to you, and you are to receive it, believe it, and obey it. And the people of God said, amen.

Let’s pray.

  Lord, please give us submission to your word, and help us to have this orientation: Christ for me, whether in poverty and wealth, whether we be sick or in full-orbed health. We ask that we would put Christ first. So I pray that that would be true even now, that we would be finding ourselves placing Him where He needs to be in our hearts, and that this message would help in this as well. And should there be one here who has not yet been brought to this place, may this sermon, may this message, may the Word of God above and beyond the utterances of man speak with power to save, to restore, and to put us where we need to be. Give the power of the Spirit. Help the preacher to abandon all self-reliance and give thy sheep a message. Come now, Lord Jesus, by your Spirit we ask for the honor of the triune God.
  Amen.

When the apostle Paul sought to illustrate the significance of faith and to have a true understanding of what faith looks like, he could not pass over that grand old leader, Moses—a prince of Egypt by adoption, yet covenant child by birth; honored in the courts of Pharaoh, yet esteeming the reproach of Christ greater than the treasures of this wealth-laden nation. Moses is a fascinating character, one that we should all be familiar with and study. And the Spirit of God in this portion of God’s Word has given us specific details to learn from that we might better understand what genuine faith looks like.

It’s not really about Moses. None of this is about the characters that are named so much as they are illustrating characteristics of genuine faith—that which was under threat or missing or needed to be further established in the hearts and minds of the apostles’ audience. Just like the Messiah, Moses comes after about 400 years of silence. Like the Messiah, he is born into a time when the ruling power issues a decree that threatens his very life. He’s also blessed with the privilege of believing parents who fear God and seek to protect the infant. Moses goes on to have a ministry among a people who are his own, and yet often they are riddled with unbelief and reject him. And there are many parallels between the life of Moses and the life of our Lord Jesus, and that’s a study certainly that we could give ourselves to. It’s not, however, the purpose this morning.

While Moses may be a type of Christ and point much to Christ, the focus here in Hebrews is to teach first-century believers—the audience that the apostle has in mind—how genuine faith will regulate their lives in certain ways, especially in a context of threat, persecution, and your own people, the Jews, turning against you and trying to persuade you to move away from Jesus as the Christ.

I’ve titled the message this morning “By Faith, Moses.” There are five heads. I trust that they will help us as we progress through verses 23 through 28. I won’t read them all at this time, but do pay attention to them—I trust that they will help illuminate what we are looking at here.

We begin in verse 23 with the faith that defies the world’s opposition. Faith that defies the world’s opposition. The account of Moses does not begin with himself—it begins with his parents, verse 23:

  By faith, Moses, when he was born, was hid three months of his parents, because they saw he was a proper child and they were not afraid of the king’s commandment.

And so faith is moving through, is present in, and is causing a response in the hearts of his parents. They are the ones that reflect—a faith that can be exemplified or ought to be exemplified by all the people of God. They live in a time where the world, in all its power and fury, has decreed the destruction of the Hebrew males. I can’t take time to go into the history; I assume most of you are aware of those details.

Pharaoh, this wicked oppressor of the people of God, sets himself against the Lord—and I think we can use the language, against his anointed. When I say that, I’m not saying necessarily directly against the Messiah. That, of course, is fulfilled in our Lord’s time by the Jews and Pilate and Herod and so on. But the anointed people of God, the ones who are set apart, the distinct people—He sets Himself against them.

But in a small home, amidst the cries of afflicted mothers, Amram and Jochabed look upon their son, and there’s something that moves them. Now, I have no doubt there was a natural inclination to find a way to preserve Moses. But there’s something peculiar. In God’s providence, we are told that there was a certain visible favor upon Moses. They saw he was a proper child, a beautiful child. They’re seeing something—and it’s not just that he was well-proportioned and so on. There must have been something peculiar about the infant.

And we have seen this. I mean, in one sense, all infants are beautiful—I get it, we all think that, especially about our own. But there are those infants that have a certain beauty about them, a certain radiance. If we have not observed that, we’re not paying attention. They’re little ones that appear to have, whether you would call it cherub-like or simply a certain beauty and favor, from the very earliest days. Some of us, you know, have children and they’re born without any hair on their heads—and so sometimes that doesn’t help their appearance. And we’ve had one or two like that (not mentioning any names), but it certainly didn’t help their appearance when they were first born—they’re all embarrassed now; they know who they are.

And others were born with a full head of hair—thick, full head of hair. I’m gonna tell you a story now, and it probably won’t translate across the Atlantic: We were going to a particular church, and Lois had just been born, and she had the thickest, fullest head of hair of all of our children. And we brought her to church for the first time, and there’s a man in the church—and I’ll try to say it the way he said it and the way you understand (I’ll not throw in the accent because that might totally throw you)—but he took one look at her and said, “She’s like a little woman cut down.” She was almost like a certain maturity with all this hair that made her look older than she really was. But the way he said it certainly caused some laughter with his accent and with the certain verbiage that I didn’t quite use on this occasion.

Anyway, you see, there are different characteristics in children. And there’s something about Moses—God, in His providence, is using this. Of course, it’s going to tenderize the heart of even those in the household of Pharaoh. But it has its first impact upon his parents—this fairness, this beauty, this favor impressed upon them in some fashion. We must do something.

Now, some have gone to suggest other things about just exactly what is meant here—a certain faith that may have arisen within the hearts of his parents that saw that God intends something for this child just by looking at him. And that may indeed be the reason why it comes to the fore here—that they looked and, by faith, saw this child as set apart. There’s something distinct about this child. God intends to do something with this child. That may be the case. But what we see here in verse 23 is that the faith of Moses’ parents is not fearful. It sees a purpose in what God is doing, and no tyrant’s decree, no royal edict, no cruel oppression will stand in its way. Faith then measures the consequences and the threat, and yet sees what the will of God is—and pursues that will no matter what.

Moses was hidden not because his parents feared Pharaoh, but because they feared God. And it’s a very important distinction—very important. I think much of the way in which parents actually parent at times, and the decisions they make in their homes, is because of a fear of the world. And so decisions made to protect—and of course we’re all for protecting children—there comes a time when, where Moses can’t protect himself, someone needs to protect him. His parents must protect him. And we as parents have a duty to engage in a protecting role. Now, we can’t protect them forever; we must prepare them in that season of protection, in which we’re trying to build them up and encourage them and instruct them and teach them, by modeling and giving them God’s Word, so that they can eventually stand on their own two feet and make decisions that honor God, and so on.

And so, as parents, we see this early part of their childhood—we must protect them, we must do what we can—but I want you to see, because this really struck me, the thought of the difference between being motivated in those decisions by a fear of the world and by a fear of God. The unbeliever can fear the world. There are people who have no heart for Christ at all who, for example, just homeschool their children because they fear the world out there and they’re trying to protect them. But they’re motivated by a fear of the world—they’re not motivated by a fear of God. And the same thinking can come into the heart of those who are meant to fear God first and foremost. Now, I could dwell on this, but I’ll not get through my sermon if I do so. But I want you just to take that thought—especially if you’re a parent. But for everyone: How do I make my decision? Is it out of fear of the world or fear of God? They’re not the same thing. The motivation is distinct—and one is in faith and one is true fear, as in slavish fear of what the world might do to my children.

We are aware of the threat of the world—I’m not saying we’re blind to it—but it is not the chief motivation. The chief motivation is: What decision do I make here that reflects my fear of God and obedience to Him? And that’s what Moses’ parents did—they feared God, not Pharaoh, God. And so, under the threat of the world, faith looks beyond the wrath of man and sees the hand of God, sees the heart of God, and sees the will of God. So I want you to keep that in mind.

Moses needed the help of his parents. What a blessing it is to have parents who care—to have parents who look at their children and actually care. Moses had a tremendous legacy here. He was born and was hid for three months by his parents, putting themselves at risk by disobeying the order of the king. And they’re not afraid of the king’s commandment—they’re not thinking about his law; they’re thinking about God’s law. It’s a very different way to respond, and what a privilege it is.

And you children, you young people, need to appreciate this context that you find yourselves in—that you are in a Christian home, that you have parents who are similar to Moses’ parents in this way, that they fear God, that they want to do His will, and that they will even do it at the threat of their own hurt. If you were born in a Christian home, please see it as a favor. I know there are abuses and there are distortions of it—and that’s another discussion for another time—but where there is a sincere effort of parents to raise their children according to God’s Word, enveloping their home in true love and humility, that’s a tremendous blessing to have.

So, we live in this world. At times there may be commandments that come from authority figures—and this is what is going on to the Hebrews. There are big voices speaking. There are Nero characters. There are other religious voices, Jewish—powerful Jewish political figures aligning with Rome—trying to move the machinery of Rome against Christians; to remove the privileges of the protection of the Roman Empire that they lived under, being seen as a sect of the Jews. They want them seen as distinct, people who have no rights and ought to be punished. Those fears—the commandments of those individuals—are playing upon those receiving this epistle, those hearing this sermon. And the day may come when you live under it too—the commandment of other kings—and we must disobey if it is a call to sin.

So, by faith, Moses, when he was born, was hid three months by his parents because they saw he was a proper child and were not afraid of the King’s commandment. They were so different from Pharaoh, so distinct from Pharaoh. I think this is the problem sometimes—I think parents can become more like Pharaoh and bring Pharaoh-like tyranny into the home. Don’t do that. Parents stand as a barrier to Pharaoh—Pharaoh’s tyranny and his hatred and animosity—enveloping the child in love and care.

But secondly, we see here not only faith that defies the world’s opposition, but faith that denies the world’s pleasures. Denies the world’s pleasures. Verse 24: “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.” So Moses has been mentioned in this sermon or this epistle already—he’s been identified as a faithful servant back in chapter three. Now he is an exemplar of faith, one to look at, one to learn from. And though he was raised as Pharaoh’s daughter’s son, He refuses, when he comes to years, that identity—choosing instead to align with God’s oppressed people. He chooses the harder path.

And at a point—and I think that’s the defining mark where he’s making that choice—is when he chooses to intervene when Hebrews are being abused by the Egyptian taskmasters, and so on. And he intervenes there—in part because he already believes, he has in his heart an understanding that God has favored him and intends to use him to deliver His people. He already believes that; he knows it; he’s wrestling with that—the way a young man wrestles with the call of God, the way any young person or any person may wrestle with some kind of decision that’s churning in his heart, and you know the right decision, you know what God is calling you to do. And that was all bubbling over in his mind and heart. We don’t know for how long, but it comes to a point where he is choosing and aligning himself with the oppressed rather than with the royalty of Egypt. So he’s renouncing his royal status. You see the language here—refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. He’s not wanting that identity. “I am part of the covenant people.” It’s not just something he’s turning away from; it’s what he’s turning to. Remember that: it’s pretty much impossible to turn away from something without turning to another thing. And sometimes you don’t know exactly what it is you’re doing. Sometimes people within the house of God who, for a time, professed to be Christian or align with Christians will say, “I’m turning away,” but they’re turning away from the Bible, turning away from Christ—they don’t know what they’re turning to. Now they are turning to something—they’re turning to self, they’re turning to whatever the world is promising—they’re turning to something else. You can’t turn away from one without turning to another, even if it’s not immediately clear in your mind.

But for Moses, it was clear—a turning away from and a turning to—a way from being of the household of Pharaoh to the suffering of affliction with the people of God. And this is how faith works, how it functions: it is willing to do this. Again, not in a way in which it chooses hardship for the sake of hardship—don’t misunderstand. This isn’t saying, “I need to—the Christian life is hard, so let me make decisions that make it hard.” That’s not what it’s saying. It is choosing what is right, even though it be hard. It’s not a call to asceticism; it’s not a call to make life hard just so that you can, in some way, feel better about your identity or profession as a Christian. It is choosing what is right, even if it is difficult. That is what Moses does here. So he sees the fleeting pleasures of sin—he sees the apostasy that it demands if he stays there. That’s the thing: he can’t stay there without engaging in spiritual apostasy. To stay as a son of Pharaoh’s daughter, to stay in that household, is to choose apostasy.

Again, you have to see the implications of what the apostle is getting at here. He is addressing a people who are making choices—that if they go away from Christ, they are going into apostasy. This isn’t just another form of Christianity. This isn’t about leaving, say, reformed churches and going into Pentecostal churches. It’s not that. It is apostasy—it is turning away from the truth. And these people—the Hebrews—are under threat to turn away from Christ and accept the sacrifices, the merit of the sacrifices of the priesthood, and everything else. And so you have to keep that context in mind.

Moses then is being used because he chose to suffer affliction with the people of God. What’s the implication? You Hebrews—if you go away from Christ and go to those Hebrews who reject Jesus as the Christ—you’re moving away from the people of God. If you are a Jew by birth and you reject Jesus Christ, you’re not the people of God. That has its own implications for another time, perhaps. But the people of God are those who are united to Jesus Christ. Adhere to Jesus Christ, love the Lord Jesus Christ—never, never misunderstand that. And that’s the implication; that’s what he’s saying: He is going with the people of God. You Hebrews need to stay with the people of God. Don’t move away.

And so he comes to years—just like you young people, you’ll come to years. Come to you right now—some of you, you’re young, 8, 10, 12—you’re going to come to years, you’re going to start making decisions, and you’re going to make choices that show whether you are truly for Christ or not. You’re going to make choices. Moses came to years; you’re coming to years. Some of you are on the brink—you’re right there, driving now, you’re mobile and you have certain autonomy—and you’re now making decisions you never had to make before. What time are you gonna come home? Are you gonna come home at the time that your parents said to you to come home? Are you gonna stay out because your friends say, “Ah, don’t go home yet?” These are little things, little tests.

Moses comes to years—just like all of us eventually. And he faced a choice: bask in the splendor of Egypt or suffer affliction with the people of God. He could have lived in a palace, and instead he chooses a life of problems with his brethren. He could have been accounted with the nobility, but he prefers to be numbered with the oppressed. He could have pursued a life of ease, but instead he embraces reproach. He refuses to identify as one of the world and chooses to be found among the people of God. That’s a choice, and he had to weigh it all up. It was no easy decision. And so he didn’t make it hastily. He’s not making here a decision in the passion of his youth or the impulse of a moment. He’s counting the cost—he’s weighing it up. You will do the same; you’re counting the cost.

Young people, listen—this message is so pertinent to you, because Moses is carried along in these circumstances and he comes to a point where he has to make tough decisions—and you will. And the passion of your youth is a real thing. The impulses, the voices of your peers are real things, but you need to count the cost. You need to weigh things in the balance. You need to deliberately choose what is right. And for Moses, he chooses the fury of Egypt in order that he might be in the favor of God. Now you might choose—and that’s what you have—the fury of the world, because you’re choosing the favor of God. If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, Jesus said. To be a Christian is not a path of ease. Jesus never promised that. No, no, no. You take up your cross and you follow Him.

And so Satan will come, and he will offer you things—not in some overt way where you see some goat-like depiction with horns and painted red and so on (I’m not talking about that)—but he’ll come to you, offering you that which you dream of, that which you hope for, on one condition: that you deny Christ. And you sit here this morning and say, “I would never give in.” I mean, there’s no way I’ll give in to Satan. But then the wicked unbelief comes in the shape of the most beautiful woman that you’ve ever seen, young man—and she’s not loyal to Jesus Christ. What do you choose? The same for the young woman. You see the most handsome, well-rounded man in his character, respectful in his manner, and your heart flutters within minutes of being in his presence, and he is showing attention to you—but he does not love Christ. What do you do?

It all seems easy until you’re tested. We can sit here as armchair quarterbacks, as it were, saying how the game’s gonna play out, and this is what needs to be done—but at some point when you’re on the field, when, at some point, you’re in the battle—when you’re at your most weak, Satan will come. And he knows exactly how to play the game against you. You need to make very defined choices. There are some aspects of the Christian life that are very black and white—not everything. There are some things that are very black and white. When it comes to loyalty to Jesus Christ, it is black and white. It is, “Christ for me, Christ for me,” even if it results in the end of your very life.

Moses forsakes the fleeting joys of Egypt because he knew they were but pleasures of sin for a season. He understood it. Maybe even growing up in it and around it, he had already seen the fleeting nature of it and understood how vain it all was. Maybe, maybe he understood that. But I could see how he could reason it out—I could see him sitting there, thinking, “Well, if I come to power and gain more prominence and authority, I can do great good for the Hebrews.” But he has to make a decision, and that decision takes him away from there and among the people of God.

So, faith that defies the world’s opposition, faith that denies the world’s pleasures, thirdly, faith that discerns the world’s riches—esteeming the reproach of Christ greater than the treasures in Egypt, for he had respect unto the recompense of the reward. His faith is able to see the true nature of the world’s riches in contrast with what is offered in Jesus Christ. This verse explains the rationale. What’s going on in Moses’ mind? Why does he make this radical refusal? He values a wealth that is greater than the treasures of Egypt. He can see through all the treasures of Egypt—which he can see with his eye. This is the thing: he can see all that gold, he can see those barns of corn that are all available there, he can see all the wealth of the nation with his eye. But faith sees something unseen, and he sees reward in that which is offered in Jesus Christ.

The meaning of this text is debated in terms of exactly what it is that Moses is seeing here, how he’s esteeming the reproach of Christ as greater riches. What does he mean? Is it just that he is seeing that it’s a form of suffering like Christ? You know, aligning with the people of God is suffering like Christ? Is it that he had some Christological vision, and he’s able to see what Christ is and who He is—and so on—in some way that through that vision aligns his heart? Or is it something else? In my study, there was an interesting observation made by one man. If you go to Psalm 89—just flip over to Psalm 89—this may be the language that the apostle is drawing from. And as you preach the Word, sometimes you use scriptural language. You draw from scripture even though you may not be verbatim quoting it. And maybe that’s what’s going on here.

Psalm 89, right at the very end, verse 50, reads: “Remember, Lord, the reproach of thy servants, How I do bear in my bosom the reproach of all the mighty people, wherewith thine enemies have reproached, O Lord, wherewith they have reproached the footsteps of thine anointed.” The idea here is that Israel stands as an anointed people—a people who are under their favor, they’re chosen, they’re under a particular anointing by God. And so in that sense, that’s how the language—the word “Christ,” some argue—is being used here: esteeming the reproach of the anointed, the anointed people, the people of God—these anointed people—esteeming the reproach that they are, as greater riches than the treasures in Egypt. In which case it is not so much focused upon the person of Jesus Christ in this text as it is His people. But the afflictions of His people are always for the cause of Jesus Christ. It doesn’t really make an ultimate difference in terms of where it directs to, but it may help argue the case of the language that is in mind here by the Apostle—esteeming the reproach of the people of God, the anointed nation, the favored people, the covenant people. It sees the reproach they are going through, and that’s greater riches than the treasures in Egypt.

Well, whatever the case, I think it lands you in the same place—that Moses again is seeing something that isn’t visible by the eye. He sees the reproach, right? On the one hand, he sees the reproach of the people of God—the suffering, the awful, awful suffering of this people. And he sees all the wealth of Egypt. Those things he can see with the eye. But with the eye of faith, he can see the vanity of Egypt. He can see right through it. And I can see the wealth that is encased in the reproach of the people of God.

Again, this has direct relevance to the audience of the Hebrews. This is what they’re missing when they’re tempted to go back, when they’re tempted to return, when they’re tempted to align with Christ that is, Jesus denying Jews. And they have to, with the eye of faith, see through the riches—the preservation of being among the Jews. Again, this is before AD 70—this is before the fall of Jerusalem. The Jews feel very secure. They hold great political weight in the Roman Empire—even the percentage of their people makes them a fairly secure minority group because they’re not all that minor in the scheme of things—percentages of 10 and 15% being Jewish in certain areas, maybe more in some areas. And so there’s a stability, there’s favor, there’s protection, there’s wealth, and there is something visible and tangible that protects me and my family if I go over there. And there’s nothing over here. There’s reproach, there’s increasing animosity, there is the developing hatred and persecution of the empire over here.

Now, what if that comes to your day and my day? What if we live through the same? You’re going to find a great purging in the church of Jesus Christ. There will be a real clarification as to who are the lords in that day because there will be those in a position like Moses—and they’ll choose Egypt, the safe place. They will not suffer affliction with the people of God. Their sight will not see the emptiness of the treasures in Egypt. And the real faith of the people of God sees that—it sees through that and sees the riches associated with suffering with the people of God. So Moses was a man without the blindfold over his eyes. You can see it all—and again, you know, the pyramids and the palaces and the prosperity—and he casts it all away that he might attain to greater riches.

And why did he say it? Faith—that’s the point. This evangelical faith, if you have this real faith, will see through these things. This is what’s needed today—that you see the emptiness of the world, and you see the riches in Christ. This is hugely lacking. Ask yourself, am I really making decisions with an eye to the eternal value? Or am I oriented solely to here and now? Well, more could be said, but I need to move on very quickly.

Verse 27—faith that departs from the world’s bondage. Faith that departs from the world’s bondage:
  By faith he forsook Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king, for he endured as seeing him who is invisible.

Again, here’s a man looking forward—abandoning Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king. He left Egypt twice. I think this is the second occasion—not the time when he flees and ends up becoming a shepherd in the wilderness—but this time when he is leaving with the people of God, because it leads into discussion about the Red Sea and so on.

So here he is with courage, because that’s what faith produces—courage. Here’s a man who perseveres. Why? Seeing him who is invisible. Oh, that would be the case. Who did he see? He saw his God. Or to pull in again, which we’ve been doing so frequently here—chapter 12, verse 2, looking on to Jesus. These believers that the apostle is addressing, he’s calling them to look on to one that they can no longer physically see. That’s no different from what Moses had to do. He had to look on and see the God who is invisible and act in honor of His name and in obedience to His will.

And so faith produces this courage—forsaking Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king, fearing again the one that is invisible, fearing God. So this is tremendous—so much illustration, so much application for us here. Do you see God? When you’re living your life and you’re making decisions and you’re put into these positions where you need to make some kind of choice, do you see Christ right there? Is He present? Do you sense Him? Do you know Him? Are you, as it were, looking into the face of the bleeding Lamb, saying, “I know this is thy will. Although I’m fearful of what it might mean, I do this because I know this is thy will.” I mean, this is it.

And what the apostle is doing here is showing that this is just regular old faith. This isn’t hyper-spiritual faith. This isn’t unattainable faith. This isn’t—look at the spiritual elite, “there’s Moses up there, we can never attain unto Moses.” No, all of these illustrations—all of these things are designed to be applicable to every Christian. They characterize every Christian. The particulars are different, but this character of seeing the true value of that which is unseen—casting aside that which is visible in the world—is common. Moses was not driven out of Egypt; he forsook it. He was not expelled; he departed. And he took the people with him, and he will not give up; he will not compromise. You know, whenever he’s dialoguing—as it were—or interacting (maybe is a better word) with Pharaoh, Pharaoh’s always trying to get him to compromise. He’s like, “No, we are leaving this place, all of us, we are getting out.” Pharaoh’s constantly, he’s like, “Well, what about this? What about that?” No, no, I will not do. And he endured because his eye of faith saw the invisible one. Oh my God, help us.

Finally, faith that delivers through blood. Faith that delivers through blood:
  Verse 28, through faith he kept the Passover and the sprinkling of blood, lest he that destroyed the firstborn should touch them.

So the Passover is instituted at this occasion—you’ll read of that in Exodus 12—and it’s an obedience to God’s command. And, of course, it becomes hugely significant in Israel’s history, but it marks here the way in which the people are to be delivered by the sacrifice of another—and all the doctrine of substitutionary atonement. The doctrine of justification is all presented in the Passover.

They would take that animal into the home, and it would live there in the home for a number of days. And then the time would come, and they’d have to kill it and sprinkle its blood upon the doorposts and the lintel of their home. You say, “Well, what difference does the blood make? Death is going to come over.” And by faith, through that application of blood, they believed that their home would be preserved and their firstborn would not die. Think of that. Think of that. Death is going to hit the region, and they say, “God has instituted it if we just shed blood and apply it.” Now, can you imagine all the people of reason—the scientists of the day—saying, “Moses, come on. If death comes to this, if this is true, if God’s judgment is coming to this area, what difference would the application of blood to the doorposts of our home make?” My faith saw the value of the shed blood.

So while Hebrews doesn’t go into the significance of Christ or Passover as Paul says when he writes to the Corinthians, nor does it get into all the typology of that, at the same time they’re meant to be making the connection—because the apostle has dismantled any hope or trust in the blood of animals, in sacrifices—the whole point again is to get their minds thinking that the faith of these men was not in the blood that was shed; it was in the promise of God, which would in time be fulfilled in His Son, Jesus Christ. And He would come and be our Passover. He would live His life. He would dwell among men like that animal in the home of those for whom He was eventually going to lay down His life. And He would dwell there and among them—living, serving, healing, redeeming, and showing mercy to multitudes—and then finally go to the cross and shed His blood. By the shedding of His blood, He makes atonement for the soul. And we believe—we rest—and by faith we take that blood shed for us, and by faith it is applied to our own hearts. Then death, judgment, passes over us. By faith, judgment is avoided. By faith, we keep the Passover. By faith—you might say—we keep Christ as our Passover. We see the merit of His shed blood. The judgment of God must fall on the sinner, but it will not touch them. Praise God.

You can put your own self in there—that by the sprinkling of blood, God, who must destroy the sinner, will not touch me. This is why the gospel is a very personal Religion—a very personal message. You need this blood applied to you. It wasn’t enough that the children of Israel would look and say, “Well, our neighbor’s got us covered. He’s got plenty there. He’s gone and there’s blood all over the place—it’s almost even on our home.” I mean, you have all this going on over there and say, “Well, it’ll be fine. We’ll be all right.” No, it needed to be personalized. Each household needed to do the work, and each individual needs to, by faith, turn to Jesus Christ and see the sufficiency of His shed blood for the pardon of your sin.

And God says, “Boys and girls, hear me now.” He still says these words: “When I see the blood, I will pass over you.” Does he see the blood applied by faith to your heart and life? Is it there? Is it? And you know that you’ve run to Christ and you’re hiding in Him, and judgment’s going to come. Well, it will come. The wrath of God—the day of God’s wrath—will come. That’s gonna come; that’s gonna pass over you, because God already satisfied His wrath in Jesus Christ for you, and you go free.

What faith? Do we deny the world? Have we rejected all that it promises? Does our faith see the value of esteeming that which is connected to Christ? Are we given to enjoy the pleasures of sin? Are we blinded by their attraction? Are there those here this morning whose lives are filled with trying to satisfy carnal desires, living half-heartedly, not sold out for Christ, and you think you’re going to get away with it? You won’t. There’s a hard line here. You’re either for Christ or against Him. You’re with Him, or you’re with the enemy. May God help us.

Let’s bow together in prayer. If you’re not saved this morning, let me encourage you. If you can imagine the cross of Jesus Christ as the door, and if you can see His death and the shedding of His blood as sprinkling that door, and by faith you enter in, you come to Him—He will never cast you out. “I am the door; by me, if any man enter in, he shall be saved.” If you want to escape the judgment of God, run to Christ. And if you need help, I’ll certainly be glad to open God’s word with you.

Lord, bless your word. Help us, please, to receive it—and you know how it applies to each heart here this morning. May the message not be missed or easily forgotten. I pray especially for the children and the young people who are coming to years. Know how I ask that they early would choose Christ and say, “Christ for me.” May the grace of our Lord Jesus, the love of God the Father, and the fellowship of the Spirit be the portion of the people of God, now and evermore.
  Amen.