"And there hath
not arisen a prophet since in Israel like unto Moses,
whom the Lord knew face to face; in all the signs and the
wonders, which the Lord sent him to do in the land of
Egypt, to Pharaoh, and to all his servants, and to all
his land; and in all the mighty hand, and in all the
great terror, which Moses wrought in the sight of all
Israel." (Deut. 34:10-12).
"Now the man
Moses was very meek, above all the men which were upon
the face of the earth." (Numbers 12:3).
The prophet Micah
described the man who pleases God as the one who loves
mercy and walks humbly with his God (Mic. 6:8). Moses was
outstanding in his humility, not only in his own days but
through all time. In connection with this, it is helpful
to realize that he was a man who loved mercy. He had
reason to do so, since he himself owed everything to the
grace of God. There seems to be no greater man in all the
sacred record - certainly not in the Old Testament; and
the mark of his greatness is that he was very meek.
A
Christ-like Virtue
His meekness was not a
superficial guise which he assumed, but a profound
characteristic of the man. The actual statement about him
was made in connection with a period of great
provocation. He was tested - tested severely and often;
and from it all emerged the Divine verdict that he had
passed the test: he was indeed a truly meek man.
Meekness is, of course,
a Christ-like virtue "I am meek and lowly in
heart" (Matt. 11:29). Perhaps it is one of the
greatest virtues, for it was the Lord Jesus Himself Who
not only pronounced a special blessing on the meek, but
promised that they should inherit the earth (Matt. 5:5).
He knew very well that meekness is not natural to
humanity; indeed it was in order that men might be
instructed in this quality of life that He called them to
come unto Him and to take His yoke upon them. "Learn
of Me...", He commanded, with the clear inference
that we sinners would never be meek or lowly unless we
did.
This was certainly true
of Moses. Nobody would suggest that the man Moses was
naturally meek. Nor would the years of training and
luxury in the Egyptian court have taught him such a
lesson. He learnt much from the Egyptians, but he
certainly never learned meekness. His outburst in Egypt,
and the one flash of impatience in the wilderness which
cost him so dearly (Num. 20:8-12), give clear indications
of the kind of man he was by nature. The more wonder,
then, that this man, of all men, should be meek, and the
supreme wonder that he surpassed all others in this
Christ-like virtue.
Not that Moses was a
mere dreamer. Meekness is not a characteristic of the
contemplative; it is a virile virtue. Moses was a man of
action. "In all the mighty hand, and in all the
great terror..." He was the leader of the greatest
venture of all history, the pioneer of the Israelitish
nation. God was mightily with Moses. When Joshua took
over the leadership of the people there was no greater
encouragement which God could give him than to assure him
that he should have the same backing: "As I was with
Moses, so I will be with thee" (Josh. 1:5). What was
the explanation of the wonderful experiences of Divine
power which Moses had? Surely this very fact, that he was
meek above all other men. His meekness was his strength.
Meekness
Because of Mercy
As we have said, the
prophet made a close association between mercy and
meekness: the man who loves mercy will walk humbly with
his God. It may well be that the greatest contributory
cause to the supreme meekness of Moses was that his life
was transformed by an overwhelming realization of God's
mercy to him. It is possible, of course, to take God's
blessings in a wrong way; to become conceited, as the
Jews did, vainly imagining that God's kind treatment of
them was due to some innate superiority of theirs. Such
men may use the right phrases, and talk of God's grace,
but it is only phraseology; they cannot be said to
"love mercy". If, however, we do appreciate the
amazing patience of God, and His goodness to the utterly
undeserving, then we begin not to boast of mercies, but
to love mercy. There is surely nothing so calculated to
make us truly lowly in heart as a realization of the
greatness of God's grace, even to us.
Mercy
at His Beginning
Moses' life began with a
very great mercy. At that time every other baby boy had
to be drowned. He alone was saved, and saved by the mercy
of God. We can give every credit to his mother who
thought of the plan and executed it, to the sister who
watched by the ark of bulrushes and intervened so
successfully, and even to Pharaoh's daughter who showed
such true and unexpected compassion. But it was not the
mother, the sister, the ark, or the princess, who
delivered him, but the great mercy of God. Moses himself
contributed least of all. When the casket was opened, he
just cried - that was all he could do.
Probably it was the one
thing which his mother hoped would not happen, and it may
be that Miriam stood by, tense with concern, lest the
baby should spoil everything by not smiling at the
appropriate moment. All that the babe could do was to
wail in complete weakness and so fail to give any help at
all. His deliverance was all of God. The name given to
him, Moses (Ex. 2:10b), was a lifelong reminder of how he
had been pulled out of the waters of destruction by the
mercy of God. Such a beginning should keep a man humble.
Yet this, too, was our
beginning. We would have been swallowed up by destruction
had it not been for Divine intervention. Like the baby
Moses, we could contribute nothing but a cry, a
despairing wail. It was God Who showed mercy to us and
drew us out of the waters of death. We might well ask, as
Moses must often have done, why we should have been the
favoured ones when others all around us have no such
history. Many have had the same opportunities, the same,
or even greater privileges; yet we are the Lord's, and
they are not. The grace of God is amazing. 'Tis mercy
all!'
Mercy
of Recovery
A time came when the
Lord met him at the burning bush, met him with a
commission and a promise. "Come now therefore, and I
will send thee", He said to him (Ex. 3:10); and
later, "Certainly I will be with thee" (v.12).
It would be impossible to imagine the overwhelming sense
of the mercy of God that must have filled Moses' heart as
he heard those words.
What a lot of history
had intervened between Moses' first sense of call to be
the Deliverer, and this present commission! He had begun
- where we must all begin - by making a great
renunciation. At forty years of age he let go of
possessions, prospects, everything selfish and earthly,
in order to be a servant of the Lord. This was not wrong;
it was right, and nobody can serve the Lord without such
a complete renunciation. He let everything go - or at
least he meant to do so. This, however, did not make him
meek. Many of us have passed through a similar
experience, and been most sincere in our dedication, but
it did not make us meek. Perhaps it made us the very
opposite, giving us a false idea of our superiority to
other Christians.
For Moses there followed
a complete fiasco. He tried to serve the Lord in his own
strength, in his own way and at his own time. Meek men
don't do that sort of thing. The result was abysmal and
utter failure. Away he fled into the land of Midian, and
for forty years he had to live with his own sense of
complete breakdown. Perhaps it was borne in on his soul
that God's work could not be done by the kind of man he
was, even when such a man had made great sacrifices.
There must have been a collapse of any imagined ability,
a sense of deep disappointment, in the conviction that he
had spoiled every chance he ever had, that he had
disqualified himself from ever being a servant of God.
We, too, must go this
way, though happily it need not last for forty years as
it did with him. But there is a spiritually symbolic
meaning in that number: it is meant to indicate the
thoroughness of the weakening process. He had learned his
lesson.
At least, he thought he
had. But in fact it was only the first half. He had
settled down with his own failure, but now the Lord
appeared to him, with this surprising call to go back
again to the work which he had ruined by trying to do it
in his own strength. He went back, unwillingly,
hesitatingly, full of doubts as to his own ability or
worthiness, but he went with the new and emphatic
assurance: "Certainly I will be with thee". How
amazing the grace of God must have seemed to him,
rescuing him from his failure and despair, offering to
one who had broken down in the past such high and
privileged service. We know, of course, that it was this
very self-despair which made possible such power as he
had never known before. It was the proof that the forty
years, far from being wasted, had done the necessary work
of undoing. To receive back his original commission by
such a miracle of mercy was calculated to make Moses feel
deeply humbled.
There is a sense in
which God's true servant is always a defeated man. The
one who drives on with the sense of his own importance,
who is unwilling to appreciate the worthlessness of his
own best efforts and is always seeking to justify himself
- that one will not be meek, and so will lack the
essential power by which God's work must be done. Our
brokenness must not be feigned; we must not be content
with the mere language and appearance of humility. We,
too, must be as conscious of Divine mercy in our being
recovered for God's service as we are of the original
mercy which drew us from the waters of death.
Mercy
of the Exodus
God abundantly fulfilled
His promise to 'be with' His servant: Moses was used in a
unique way to do the work of God. This, too, he realized,
was pure mercy: "Thou in Thy mercy hast led the
people which Thou hast redeemed" (Ex. 15:13). Moses
did not need the deliverance for himself. He was free; he
had never been a slave; he could walk in and out as he
pleased. He was sent, however, to his people who were in
'the house of bondage', and was faced with the impossible
task of getting them released so that they might worship
and serve God. The miracle happened; the great
emancipation came; and Moses had been the man whom God
used to bring this about. The old Moses, full of his own
importance, might have been ready to take some credit to
himself for this. Alas! it is all too easy for the
servant of the Lord to get puffed up, even if he has been
used in only a small way. Even the new Moses, deeply
aware of his dependence on the Lord, had severe tests in
Egypt which threw him back even more on the absolute
grace of God, and he was only able to share in the great
Exodus when it had become abundantly clear that God alone
was doing the work.
This is the case with
every spiritual servant of God. He has to be so dealt
with that any tendency to imagine that he is anything in
himself, or at all superior to others, must be purged
from him. Then, to see God working in power and
deliverance, as Moses saw Him, to be the instrument of a
work which is so wholly and absolutely of God - this can
only bring a man very low in humble worship. Really, the
man who is most used should be the meekest of all. When
Christ turned the water into wine, we are told that,
while the ruler and the guests at the feast did not know
the secret, those who did the carrying did. "But the
servants which had drawn the water knew" (John
2:10). They knew how gloriously Christ had worked, and
that they themselves had been spectators, rather than
agents, privileged to be so used, well aware that all the
glory belonged to the Lord and none to man.
Mercy
of Answered Prayer
Think, also, of the
wonderful way in which the Lord answered Moses' prayers.
There were miracles of preservation, miracles of
provision, miracles of progress. Every time when a new
crisis of need came upon them, Moses turned to the secret
place of prayer and called on the Name of the Lord. And
on each occasion there were fresh blessings which could
only have come by way of the trials. The people could not
pray for themselves. More often than not they doubted and
complained. Moses was the man who prayed, and so Moses
had the full spiritual blessing which comes to those who
see their prayers answered, especially if these prayers
are for others rather than for themselves. After all,
when the people lacked food, Moses was as hungry as any
of them. He, too, could have died from thirst, just like
the rest. When they were attacked by their enemies, Moses
was as much in danger as any of them - possibly more. It
seems, though, that, as a true intercessor should, Moses
forgot himself and his own needs in his shepherd-like
concern for the people. He prayed for them, not for
himself; and, as he did so, he could hardly ignore the
fact that they were as unworthy as he. When the prayers
were answered - and what a wonderful record of answered
prayer the wilderness journey provided! - then anew he
would be impressed with the greatness of God's mercy.
There were, of course,
deeper spiritual needs than the physical and material
perils of the wilderness way. There were times when the
whole nation was likely to be destroyed, because of its
disobedience and sin. There were individuals, like Aaron
and Miriam, whose only hope of survival could be in the
mercy of God. Moses was the man who prayed for that
mercy, and God graciously responded to his selfless
intercession. There are two ways of receiving answers to
prayer. The wrong way is that of conceit, as though we or
our prayers had some kind of merit in them. A prayer
ministry will not continue for long, nor remain
effective, if any such spirit is allowed a place in the
heart of the intercessor. But there is the other way,
when those concerned are humbled to the dust by the sheer
goodness and grace of God. Even more than suffering, even
more than chastening, the very abundance of God's mercy
can melt our hearts in lowly gratitude. Such people do
not have to try to be meek. They do not even have to pray
to be made meek. It is the goodness of God, so amazing
and so undeserved, which produces such meekness.
Harry Foster