Resistance is Not Futile
Exodus 1:8–2:10
I have some shocking and somewhat obscure news for all you people under 30 out there. Your very name may have been subtly influenced by the arrangement of letters on the keyboard of the standard Western computer. Researchers from the University of Chicago conducted a study to see what effect the modern keyboard, often known as the QWERTY keyboard named for the first six letters on the top row of the keyboard, has had on us. They compared baby names from the 1960’s through 2012 and determined that as the QWERTY keyboard became more ubiquitous in society, reaching near universal saturation in 1990, that there was a statistically significant impact of the QWERTY keyboard on baby names. With the rise of the QWERTY keyboard, also came a preference in baby names that favored letters on the right side of the QWERTY keyboard. Since most people are right handed, about 90% of us, we tend to favor letters on the right side of the keyboard. It probably isn’t something you have conscious awareness of, but nevertheless, when these researchers looked at a large data set of baby names, tracked them over time, they were able to determine a clear “right handed” bias in the letters of baby names that correlates with the rise of the QWERTY keyboard. This phenomenon has been dubbed the “QWERTY Effect.” I believe its significance is actually far more important than just the patterns of baby names. The “QWERTY Effect” actually points to a far more significant and spiritual truth — everything matters. Even things that seem small and insignificant matter. Everything we do or don’t do — has some impact, however small in the world. And I want to show you this morning that our Scripture today backs up this claim. Small acts of goodness, faithfulness and resistance to evil matter. Even when they seem so small in comparison to the problem of the world at large.
When we think about the significance of our actions or inactions, there are two basic ways we can think about them. On one hand, we can have a deep sense of despair. We may think that nothing we do matters. How can little ol’ me make any kind of impact on the world? At its most extreme, despair turns into a kind of nihilism where nothing matters and we stop caring about anything beyond the self. On the other extreme is a deep sense of purpose. We have the conviction that what we do matters. And even when our power is small compared to the relative size of all that is going on around us, we still find deep meaning and passion in doing things that help to bring about God’s kingdom. You can see these basic attitudes in the discourse around voting. Some, on both the right and the left, will make the case that every vote matters. They will encourage you to vote. They will cite instances in which even a single vote made the difference in this election or that referrendum. Others are more cynical. They typically don’t bother to make the case, since the don’t care as much. But they see that there were over 128 million ballots cast in the last US presidential election, for example, meaning their vote is statistically insignificant. They may say things like, its the electoral college that really makes the decision. Or the outcome in my state isn’t really in question anyways, so what’s the point? And these things are true. My influence is less than 1/1 hundred millionth. One can see the clear rationality behind this apathy.
Yet, small things do matter. Whether it is what you do with you time, the words you choose to use, the way you give your money — remember the widow who gave two small coins out of her poverty, whether it is a small gesture of care, your vote, a prayer you offer up, or a sacrifice you make. It matters.
Those who lean into the despair way of looking at the world tend to see their actions in a discrete way. They are disconnected from the actions of others. It is a myopic and narcissistic way of looking at the world. Is the effort this would take worth it for me? There is no larger sense of being connected to others. But friends this is where the power of whatever small acts of faithfulness, goodness, and resistance to evil make a bigger impact in the world. It is where God uses them to move the mountains that are bringing about God’s kingdom on earth, even in the season of despair that we seem to be living in now.
You can see it clearly in our Scripture this morning. In a time when men had virtually all the formal power, the story of the Exodus, and our small slice of it that we are exploring today, the powerful man in the narrative — Pharaoh is rendered impotent through the combination of hundreds of small acts of goodness, faithfulness, and resistance that God weaves together for a powerful story of deliverance — a story that would become the foundational story through which all God’s acts of salvation in Scripture, including the story of Jesus Christ, are understood. In the beginning of this story, it isn’t the powerful men who get the ball rolling, but 6 seemingly obscure women who, in our passage today, do 12 different small things that make the Exodus possible. Without these 6 women and these 12 actions, the Exodus does not happen. There is no Moses. No deliverance. No promised land. Perhaps there would have been a few more pyramids built in Egypt.
Let’s take a look at these 6 women. Only two of them are actually named in our Scripture passage — that only further reinforces the point — you don’t have to be a big shot to make a difference.
The first two women are the only ones named in our passage this morning, but even if you’ve heard this story many times before, you may not remember their names. Shiphrah and Puah. They were midwives to the Hebrew women living as slaves within the kingdom of Egypt. The Israelite people became numerous and a new Pharaoh understood this as a threat to his kingdom. So he says, “let’s deal shrewdly with them” or they will overpower us. Not only does he enslave them, but he creates an official Egyptian policy of infanticide for newborn baby boys. He instructs these two midwives, who held a strategic position when it comes to the birthrate of the Hebrew people, to kill any newborn baby boys. This would stop the Hebrew population growth. And here is the first of our twelve small actions in our Scripture today. Though it was now the law of the land, verse 17 tells us that Shiphrah and Puah “did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them.”
Pharoah calls Shiphrah and Puah into his office and asks them why they have done this. And here’s the second small act of resistance. These midwives use Pharoah’s stereotype against him. They say, “oh you know how those Hebrew women are — they aren’t like Egyptian women, they are vigorous and give birth quickly before we can get there.” And likely because it was something of a negative stereotype about Hebrew women, Pharaoh didn’t question it. He just comes up with another plan that does not rely on snatching babies at the point of birth, when infanticide could be disguised by a high infant mortality rate. Now Pharaoh announces a formal policy of outright genocide, instructing that all Hebrew boys shall be thrown into the Nile river.
And here we meet our next woman in the story — the mother of Moses, known to us only as a “Levite woman.” A person so insignificant at this point in the story that she is not even named, though she would become the mother of the most important figure in all of the Jewish faith. It wasn’t until Moses became more important in the story line that we learn her name, in a genealogy later in Exodus. Her name is Jochebed. And Jochebed’s act of faithfulness was to follow that divine command in the first chapter of Genesis, to be fruitful and multiply. Though this must have been a dark time for the Hebrews in Egypt, Jochebed did not lean into despair, but chose instead to bring a child into the world. And the people continued to multiply in opposition to Pharaoh’s wishes. Jochebed was also responsible for the 4th and 5th acts of resistance in our Scripture. The law of the land was now — toss all Hebrew baby boys in the Nile river. And here, Jochebed technically follows the letter of the law — at first hiding her baby (4th act of resistance) and then putting him into the Nile in a basket she had constructed (the 5th act). It may be that she used the skills gained as a slave to build the basket that would subvert the slave masters.
Next is the fourth woman in the story, also unnamed here, the sister of Moses, who we learn elsewhere is named Miriam. You see, Moses isn’t just sent unguided down the Nile river, but the 6th act of goodness in our Scripture is Miriam keeping her eye on this basket as it went down the river. This way she could protect it and intercede when he is found.
The final two women in this story are the daughter of Pharaoh and her maid. They are also unnamed in the story and in the rest of the Bible. Another ancient book, Jubilees, part of a collection of books known as the Pseudopigrapha names Pharoah’s daughter as Thermouthis as does the Jewish historian Josephus. And Thermouthis’ maid will go on to be unnamed throughout all of antiquity. Yet, it is these two women who find and then take out the basket they found in the Nile. This is the 7th act of goodness in our Scripture. And Thermouthis is also responsible for the 8th act of goodness. Exodus 2:6 says, she opened the basket, saw the child. “He was crying and she took pity on him.” Here she was, the daughter of the very person who had caused the death of many Hebrew boys in the land and caused this crying baby to be set afloat down the Nile river. But she chose to be moved by his pain and tears. Even when her privileged place in society was provided by the instigator of the cruelty that sent this baby down the river.
Her pity must have been deep enough to be visible because Miriam was still watching the basket from afar and rather than turning to despair, when she could have said, “oh no, the daughter of Pharaoh is the one who discovered the basket,” she has enough faith that what she would do next would matter. She saw the pity on the face of Thermouthis and sensed an opportunity. This was not the face of someone who wanted the child to drown. It wasn’t the face of someone so fearful of losing power that she was willing to do unspeakable things. And so the 9th act of resistance is Miriam offering to Thermouthis to find her a nurse from among the Hebrew women.
And Thermouthis says, “Yes.” And this leads to the 10th act of resistance. Thermouthis funds the nursing of Moses. She uses money likely provided by her father subversively against the system. And Miriam takes the money and appears to nurse the child herself.
The next act of goodness, faithfulness and resistance is one that women from time immemorial have participated in. Miriam and presumably, Moses’s mother, Jochebed, raised a child. It isn’t exactly clear up until what age, but they raise him for a portion of his childhood. Probably at least until he was weened from breastfeeding. They knew keeping a child of this age wasn’t safe in the land of Egypt and so they return the child to Thermouthis and she performs the final act of faithfulness in our Scripture today — she adopts a child, naming him Moses.
Six obscure women, at least 12 acts of goodness, faithfulness, and resistance. None of them would make their lives easier. All were contingent upon each other. And God used all of them to undermine the evil that gave rise to their inspired actions.
You see, the principalities and powers, the Pharaohs of the world, want you to believe that Resistance is Futile. Their power is so great that yours does not matter. That is what all oppressive powers want you to believe from Pharaoh to the Borg in Star Trek — resistance is futile. Their influence grows if you believe that. If you assume that the way the keys are arranged on the keyboard has no effect on the world, all the better for the ones with the most power. Any action you might take is just a drop in an ocean and therefore, meaningless. But friends, the truth of our Scripture this morning is that even when we don’t see the whole picture, our acts of goodness, faithfulness and resistance are being used by God in larger ways. To liberate the oppressed, to save the lost, to redeem the world. When Jesus wanted to let John the Baptist know whether or not he was sent by God, he told some messengers, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them (Luke 7:22).” Indeed, through Jesus, God used small actions like the persistent faith of other unnamed women — such as the Canaanite woman confronting Jesus that we read about last week in worship and the woman who reached out just to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment to do these things that Jesus reports back to John.
Friends, what you do matters. Whether it is the simple decision to get out of bed, to smile or encourage a child, to vote, to protest an injustice, to pray, to give, to make a meal for someone, to protect someone or something — whatever the act of goodness, faithfulness, or resistance to evil — it matters. And God is at work weaving these small actions into a larger movement. The largest movement the world has ever known — the coming of God’s kingdom — on earth as it is in heaven. So friends, do not despair, but be a people filled with passion and purpose. Every moment matters. Every breath matters. Every ounce of energy spent in a positive way will not come back void, but is being used by God to liberate our world from Pharaoh and those like Pharaoh to establish an alternative kingdom — a place where the God who is love alone rules and is the home God has wanted all along for each one of us. God uses remnants — people who still care, people who don’t despair to birth new and creative things in our world. May we allow ourselves to be midwives of these divine birthings in our world — that new life would be the final story of our world. Would you pray with me?
