Read Exodus 1

Exodus begins with names.

Before we hear the crack of a taskmaster’s command or the decree against the children, we are reminded that these people belong to a family. They have fathers, brothers, and a history with God. Genesis has not been forgotten simply because another book has begun.

Joseph dies. His brothers die. The generation that remembered their arrival in Egypt passes away. Yet the family continues to grow. The language of fruitfulness and multiplication carries the promises of Genesis into a country that will soon become hostile to them.

Then a new king arises who does not know Joseph.

The man whose wisdom preserved Egypt during famine no longer shapes the king’s treatment of Joseph’s people. Pharaoh sees their growing numbers and imagines a threat. He speaks of dealing shrewdly with them, making cruelty sound like responsible planning.

It is possible to use the language of wisdom while refusing the demands of love.

Pharaoh sets taskmasters over Israel. Their work becomes bitter. But oppression does not give him the control he expects. The people continue multiplying, and his fear grows. He orders the Hebrew midwives to kill the sons at birth.

Here the narrative slows enough to give us two names: Shiphrah and Puah.

The king is called Pharaoh. The women are remembered personally. The contrast is striking. The ruler commands an empire, but these women refuse his order because they fear God.

They are not staging a public triumph. They are protecting children in the place where their ordinary work has become dangerous. Their reverence for God takes the practical form of refusing to do harm.

We should not turn their story into a promise that every act of courage will receive immediate protection. The chapter still ends with a terrible decree. Pharaoh commands his people to throw the Hebrew sons into the Nile. Faithful resistance has not yet ended the suffering.

But his command is not the only thing happening in Egypt.

God deals well with the midwives. His covenant family continues to live. The king cannot make his authority ultimate simply by making his cruelty public.

As we begin this journey toward God dwelling among His people, we must first learn to notice people whom power treats as disposable. The coming tabernacle will not belong to a God indifferent to the brickyards. The One who draws near is already attentive to the children threatened beside the river.

Matthew will later describe another ruler ordering the deaths of children as he seeks to destroy Jesus. The echo is painful, but the outcome is hopeful. Human violence does not extinguish God’s saving purpose. The child Herod cannot destroy will become the Savior who gives His own life for others.

Today, we are not asked to imagine ourselves powerful enough to repair every injustice. We are asked to refuse the lie that obedience is insignificant unless it attracts attention.

Shiphrah and Puah could not command Pharaoh’s army. They could refuse Pharaoh’s evil.

Sometimes faithfulness begins with recognizing the life before us and deciding that fear will not have the final authority over how we treat it.

Notice

Compare Pharaoh’s description of Israel with the opening list of names. What changes when we see people as a threat rather than as people?

Understand

God preserves His covenant people amid real oppression. The midwives’ fear of God leads them to protect life rather than obey an evil command.

Name

Where are we tempted to excuse harm because someone influential calls it necessary or sensible?

Respond

Protect or encourage someone whose needs are easily overlooked. Make the action concrete, even if no one else sees it.

Journal Question

What would fearing God more than other people change about the next decision we make?

Prayer

Father, keep us from reducing people to problems, categories, or inconveniences. Give us courage to protect life and refuse what is evil. Remember those living under cruel authority, and make us attentive to the help we can actually give. Teach us to trust Your faithfulness when the story remains painful and unfinished. In Jesus’ name, amen.