Three Women and a Baby

The Life of Moses – Act 1, Scene 4:
Exodus 2:5-10
Rev. Clark Lynn Callender, 5/9/16

Once upon a time, so the story is told, there was a young minister who, when he was still single, preached a sermon entitled, “Rules for Raising Children.” After he got married and had children of his own, he changed the title of the sermon to, “Suggestions for Raising Children.” And when his children got to be teenagers, he just stopped preaching on the subject altogether.
FAMILY – it’s a tough subject! Hard to make it work, difficult to find any hard and fast rules. Well, despite the danger, this is something of what I’d like to talk about today, on this day when we celebrate motherhood and home.

This morning we once again continue our study of the story of Moses, this week picking-up on the “cliffhanger” with which we left things last week:
The people of Israel are slaves in Egypt and, in order to control their population growth, pharaoh (the king of Egypt) has ordered that all baby boys born to the Israelites are to be drowned in the Nile River. A slave woman has given birth to a son and after hiding him for as long as she could, has put him in a basket and set him off down the Nile – hoping against hope that God will find some way to rescue him. And in today’s reading, precisely this occurs:
A princess, pharaoh’s own daughter, has come down to the Nile to bathe. She spots the basket in the reeds along the banks of the river and orders it brought to her. She opens it up and there discovers a baby, and she recognizes that this is Hebrew child (probably due to the clothing the child is wrapped in).
Now, this princess (traditionally identified by the name BITHIA) undoubtedly knows her father’s command, but the child begins to cry, and in a demonstration of the warmth of her heart, compassion overrules obedience, and she decides to raise this child as her own.
Of course, however, princesses don’t nurse babies.
Well, fortunately the child’s older sister (who we know is MIRIAM – and who is, at this point, probably about 10-12 years old) has been following her brother in the basket along the river, seeing what would happen. And being a clever girl (and arguably, the world’s most quick-thinking babysitter!), she quickly steps up and asks pharaoh’s daughter if she would like her to find a nursemaid for the child. Bithia agrees, and in one of those classic cases of God’s playful sense of humor the child’s own mother, JOCHEBED, winds up getting paid to nurse her own son!
Imagine that! How many mothers get paid to raise their own kids?! God loves to turn things upside down!
Jochebed nurses her son and when he has grown sufficiently (probably about age three), pharaoh’s daughter comes and takes him to raise him in the palace as an Egyptian. And she gives him his name: MOSES - a name, curiously, with both Egyptian and Hebrew meaning: In Egyptian related to their words for birth and god. And in Hebrew, from the verb to “draw out” (as in drawn out of the water). Together, pointing ahead to what Moses (raised in two worlds) will ultimately become: the child born to draw his people out of captivity!
It’s a great scene - both for what it tells us and for what it doesn’t tell us: The seeming “coincidence” here of pharaoh’s daughter going to the Nile at just that moment – an event that obviously has God’s providential hand all over it. The question of Bithia herself: What is driving her? What happens when she brings this child home? What does her father make of this act of rebellion? What is it like for Moses to be raised in the palace? What is it like for his mother to give him up?
All sorts of intriguing issues running around here. But in the midst of all of this, at its most basic level: simply the story of a FAMILY. The family into which Moses is born and rises to adulthood – his foundation: THREE WOMEN AND A BABY. They obviously do a pretty good job. What do these three women – what some refer to as “Moses’ Three Mothers” - teach us about family? A few thoughts...
(I)
First, they teach us that FAMILY IS AN IMPROVISED MESS.
Needless to say, the situation into which Moses is born is not a conventional one. Far from the traditional ideal of “Father, mother, 2.3 children, one dog and two goldfish;” this family is a collection of people being tossed together “on the fly”. Everyone making do the best they can with what they’ve got. It doesn’t fit the “manual” but it’s still going to be a blessing. And I believe that’s the first point here:
I think we all tend to have in our minds this picture of what family life is supposed to be: some sort-of combination of “The Brady Bunch” meets “Father Knows Best” – this ideal, this perfection. And then, when our families fail to live up to this, when things go wrong, go off script – as they invariably do; we flip out thinking everything is wrong, that it’s hopeless. When it’s not – it’s just the way it is.
This text first seeks to show us that there is no set rule for what a family is. Family isn’t some perfect construction, it’s people tossed together, people getting things right, people getting things wrong, ad-libbing as they go along... An IMPROVISED MESS that together, out of love, the participants seek to make the best of. As here: through flexibility and ingenuity and compassion and sacrifice and mercy.
To put it another way: As we’ve noted in the past, the phrase “DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY” is REDUNDANT! We’re all messed-up, each in our own way. Family, to begin with, doesn’t come down to getting it all right; it comes down to what we make of it when it goes all wrong! Do we fall apart, and quit and give-up; or do we work and sacrifice and forgive and grow?
You know, I once heard this preacher tell the story of browsing in a Christian bookstore one day, when he discovered a shelf of “reduced price” items. Among the gifts was a little figurine of a man and woman, their heads lovingly tilted toward one another. “Happy 10th Anniversary” read the inscription. It appeared to be in perfect condition, yet its tag indicated “damaged.” Wondering what was wrong, the preacher examined it more closely, eventually finding another tag underneath that explained the problem. Reading it, he said he just had to chuckle, for it read: “Wife is coming unglued.”
Can you relate to that? Let’s face it: Family can often make the best of us come “unglued”! The issue is: What are we going to do about it? Simply put... The first question today is: What in your family is NOT RIGHT, and needs your understanding, your compassion, your forgiveness, your forgiveness – to make true family? A poet once wrote:
I ran into a stranger as he passed by,
“Oh, excuse me Please” was my reply.
He said, “Please excuse me too;
I wasn’t even watching for you.”
We were very polite, this stranger and I.
We went on our way and we said good-bye.
But at home a different story is told,
How we treat our loved ones, young and old.
Later that day, cooking the evening meal,
My daughter stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked her down.
“Get out of the way,” I said with a frown.
She walked away, her little heart broken.
I didn’t realize how harshly I’d spoken.
While I lay awake in bed,
God’s still small voice came to me and said,
“While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use,
But the family you love, you seem to abuse.
Go look on the kitchen floor,
You’ll find flowers there by the door.
Those are flowers she brought for you.
She picked them herself, pink, yellow and blue.
She stood quietly not to spoil the surprise,
and you never saw the tears in her eyes.”
By this time, I felt very small
and now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by her bed;
“Wake up, little girl, wake up,” I said.
“Are these the flowers you picked for me?”
She smiled, “Yes, I found 'em, out by the tree.
I picked ‘em because they’re pretty like you.
I knew you’d like ‘em, especially the blue.”
I said, “Daughter, I’m sorry for the way I acted today;
I shouldn’t have yelled at you that way.”
She said, “Oh, Mom, that’s okay.
We all make mistakes. I love you anyway.”
My heart overflowing I replied, “I love you too,
and I do like the flowers, especially the blue.”
Moses’ family first teaches us that FAMILY IS AN IMPROVISED MESS.
(II)
Secondly, it teaches us that FAMILY IS HARD WORK.
In the story, one of the things that I just love about how the drama is played out here is Miriam’s contribution:
Her mother puts the child in a basket in the river hoping that God will come through. But Miriam doesn’t leave it at that: Unbeknownst to her mother, she hides in the bushes along the river and watches the basket as it floats along, keeping track of it. Then, when pharaoh’s daughter finds it, Miriam has enough initiative – and gall – to run up and suggest the hiring of her mother.
God is at work... but MIRIAM IS HELPING IT ALONG!
It’s a great lesson for all of us (as we noted last week): God is at work in our lives, but are we helping it along – especially in our families? Miriam represents the kind of faithful person who dutifully attends to the details, who is devoted, doing the little common acts that make great things occur - without which they fail to occur! She works at making this new family happen – and through her efforts it does!
Second point here: FAMILY DOESN’T JUST HAPPEN; IT’S WORK! It’s the faithful little acts of devotion that make it happen: It’s married couples making time to regularly go on “dates” with one another; it’s families taking time to do things together; it’s asking “How was your day?”; its stopping to listen; it’s simple kindnesses; it’s gentle words...
A lot of families fall apart because they won’t do the daily “grunt” work of family. They just take their family for granted, ignore it, go their own way, figuring it will always be there. Well make no mistake: Family is something that, if you ignore it it will go away!
Second question here: How are you failing to do the WORK OF FAMILY. The daily faithful stuff that makes family? Thinking about Mother’s Day, this past week I read the following:
“Many of us take better care of our cars then we do our mothers and yet we only expect our cars to last 5 or 6 years but we expect our mothers to last for a lifetime. Maybe we need a maintenance manual for mothers so we would know how to take care of them at least as well as we do our automobiles. Here are some items that might be included in such a manual.
“Engine: A mother’s engine is one of the most dependable kinds you can find. She can reach top speed from a prone position at a single cry from a sleeping child. But regular care is needed to keep up that peak performance. Mothers need a hot bath and a nap every day, a baby-sitter and a night out every couple of weeks, and a vacation at least once a year.
“Battery: Mother’s batteries should be recharged regularly. Handmade items, notes, unexpected hugs and kisses, and frequent ‘I love yous’ will do very well.
“Brakes: See that she uses her brakes to slow down often and come to a full stop occasionally. (A squeaking sound indicates a need for a rest)
“Fuel: Most mothers can run indefinitely on coffee, leftovers and salads, but an occasional dinner for two at a nice restaurant will really add to her efficiency.
“Tune-ups: Mothers need regular tune-ups. Compliments are both the cheapest and most effective way to keep a mother purring contentedly.
“If these instructions are followed consistently, this fantastic creation and gift from God, that we call MOTHER should last a lifetime and give good service and constant love to those who need her most.”
Are we doing the “daily maintenance” on our families? Moses’ family secondly teaches us the FAMILY IS WORK. Which leads us into...
(III)
The third lesson here: FAMILY IS A TEAM SPORT. One author writes:
“True story. A woman telephoned a friend and asked how she was feeling. ‘Terrible,’ came the reply over the wire, ‘my head’s splitting and my back and legs are killing me. The house is a mess, and the kids are simply driving me crazy.’ Very sympathetically the caller said, ‘Listen, go and lie down, I’ll come over right away and cook lunch for you, clean up the house, and take care of the children while you get some rest. By the way, how is Joe?’ ‘Joe?’ the complaining housewife gasped. ‘Who is Joe?’ ‘My heavens,’ exclaimed the first woman, ‘I must have dialed the wrong number.’ There was a long pause. ‘Are you still coming over?’ the harried mother asked hopefully. Laughing, the first woman replied, ‘You know what. I think I will.’ And good to her word she came over cooked and cleaned and babysat for this complete stranger and the two became lifelong friends. Family created!”
Third point here: Family is all about helping one another in need – this is where it happens (or fails to happen). As in the text: What drives the whole story is these three women seeking to help this one child in need.
How often do our families fall apart because we don’t operate this way? We’re not caring about one another’s needs, not altering our course for that; but rather, just selfishly looking out for ourselves and wondering why no one else is looking after us?
Family is a TEAM SPORT. It is driven, made or broken, by its members being conscious of one another’s needs – and responding, changing their course for that. The third big question of family here: How is a member of your family in need today and what are you going to do about it? How are you adjusting what you do for them – not just all hung up on your own issues? Christian author Donna Power writes:
“After helping my three-year-old son, Isaac, dry off after a bath, I wrapped him in a towel and put him on my lap for a hug. I said, ‘Isaac, you're getting so big! What are we going to do when you're too big to fit on my lap anymore?’ Without missing a beat, he replied, ‘Then I’m going to hold you, Mom.’”
He got it! Family is about each of us “holding” each other when in need. The third lesson of our text today: FAMILY IS A TEAM SPORT. And finally...
(IV)
The fourth thing that Moses’ family teaches us: FAMILY IS A SACRED TRUST.
In the end, of course, what’s ultimately happening in this scene is not just the creation of a family; but God’s SAVING WORK in the world. Moses is incredibly IMPORTANT in that work. The child given to these women is a SACRED TRUST. And the point is...
That the same is true in EVERY FAMILY: What is going on in our homes is not just sleeping and rising, going to work and school, eating meals, running errands... What’s going on is the saving work of God. Lives priceless to God. God’s saving work being played out. Do we see each other as this? Like the women here do we do the things that let one another know that we recognize this?
Most families finally fall apart because they lose this sense of the SACRED WORTH of one another – they see only faults, don’t cherish one another. The final question of family here: What today – and everyday – are you going to do to let the members of your family know how valuable they are to you, the sacred worth you see in them? An anonymous writes:
“The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on the floor beside the dresser in my parents' bedroom. When he got ready for bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.
“As a small boy I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made as they were dropped into the jar. They landed with a merry jingle when the jar was almost empty. Then the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar was filled. I used to squat on the floor in front of the jar and admire the copper and silver circles that glinted like a pirate’s treasure when the sun poured through the bedroom window.
“When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank. Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production. Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck. Each and every time, as we drove to the bank, Dad would look at me hopefully. ‘Those coins are going to keep you out of the textile mill, son. You’re going to do better than me. This old mill town’s not going to hold you back.’ Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin proudly.
“’These are for my son’s college fund. He’ll never work at the mill all his life like me.’ We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an ice cream cone. I always got chocolate. Dad always got vanilla. When the clerk at the ice cream parlor handed Dad his change, he would show me the few coins nestled in his palm. ‘When we get home, we’ll start filling the jar again.’ He always let me drop the first coins into the empty jar. As they rattled around with a brief, happy jingle, we grinned at each other. ‘You’ll get to college on pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters,’ he said. ‘But you’ll get there. I’ll see to that.’
“The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in another town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the phone in their bedroom, and noticed that the pickle jar was gone. It had served its purpose and had been removed. A lump rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser where the jar had always stood. My dad was a man of few words, and never lectured me on the values of determination, perseverance, and love. The pickle jar had taught me all these virtues far more eloquently than the most flowery of words could have done.
“When I married, I told my wife Susan about the significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in my life as a boy. In my mind, it defined, more than anything else, how much my parents loved me. No matter how rough things got at home, Mom and Dad continued to doggedly drop coins into the jar. Even the summer when Dad got laid off from the mill, and Mama had to serve dried beans several times a week, not a single dime was taken from the jar.
“To the contrary, as Dad looked across the table at me, pouring catsup over my beans to make them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to make away out for me. ‘When you finish college, Son,’ he told me, his eyes glistening, ‘You’ll never have to eat beans again... unless you want to.’
“The first Easter after our daughter Jessica was born, we spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom and Dad sat next to each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling their first grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and Susan took her from Dad's arms. ‘She probably needs to be changed,’ she said, carrying the baby into my parents' bedroom to diaper her. When Susan came back into the living room, there was a strange mist in her eyes. She handed Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand and leading me into the room. ‘Look,’ she said softly, her eyes directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins.
“I walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful of coins. With a gamut of emotions choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. I looked up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had slipped quietly into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was feeling the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak.”

Jochebed, Miriam, Bithia, and Moses. Three women and a baby. A most unusual family, but one that produced tremendous results. Might we learn from their example. Remember: Family is an Improvised mess. Family is hard work. Family is a team sport. And family is a sacred trust.