Missions Paul

Have you ever had a Jethro moment? When someone who loves you enough to be honest looks at the load you have been carrying and says, “This is not good.” Here comes that moment, and with it some practical leadership lessons for us all.

“Listen now to me and I will give you some advice, and may God be with you. You must be the people’s representative before God and bring their disputes to him. ²⁰ Teach them his decrees and instructions, and show them the way they are to live and how they are to behave. ²¹ But select capable men from all the people—men who fear God, trustworthy men who hate dishonest gain—and appoint them as officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens. ²² Have them serve as judges for the people at all times, but have them bring every difficult case to you; the simple cases they can decide themselves. That will make your load lighter, because they will share it with you. ²³ If you do this and God so commands, you will be able to stand the strain, and all these people will go home satisfied. ²³ If you do this and God so commands, you will be able to stand the strain, and all these people will go home satisfied.” ²⁴ Moses listened to his father-in-law and did everything he said. ²⁵ He chose capable men from all Israel and made them leaders of the people, officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens. ²⁶ They served as judges for the people at all times. The difficult cases they brought to Moses, but the simple ones they decided themselves. ²⁷ Then Moses sent his father-in-law on his way, and Jethro returned to his own country.” (Exodus 18 v 19-27)

We have a lovely British custom of welcoming someone to our home who has travelled a long way. Almost immediately after saying, “Welcome, it’s good to see you,” we ask, “How was your journey?”

You see, how we got there is as important as getting there. It’s not about achieving, but how you achieved it. Not about successful work, but how you got there. Not about staying married, but how you stay married.

According to his father-in-law, Moses wasn’t doing too well with the how of life. Day after day he sat as judge from morning until evening, a nation of newly freed slaves lining up to have him alone settle their disputes. It looked like faithfulness. It was actually a slow road to collapse.

You may not be doing too well with the how either. So here’s some advice from old man Jethro:

1. Find out the ‘must’. Highlight the very important matters (v19). Not everything that lands on your desk deserves your personal attention.

2. Realise, in thought and deed, that you are not God. (v19) Moses stood as the people’s representative before God, a vital role, but a limited one. The moment we forget the limits, we start carrying weight we were never built to bear.

3. Focus on the DNA. Culture is more important than command (v. 20). Jethro’s first instruction wasn’t about structures. It was about teaching decrees, instructions, and a way of life. Get the culture right, and the systems will hold.

4. Break the task down. Smaller sections, chapters, seasons so that nothing is missed or overlooked (v21-22). Officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens. Even a nation’s worth of disputes becomes manageable in pieces.

5. Know you cannot get through life’s journey without trusting people. (v21, 25-26) Capable men, God-fearing, trustworthy, free from dishonest gain. Moses had to let go of the illusion that only he could be trusted with the load.

Moses listened. He didn’t defend his old way of doing things, but he simply obeyed. And the whole camp went home satisfied.

The hard cases still came to him. The role as the people’s representative before God remained his. He carried what he was meant to carry not what people expected him to. Shared leadership is carrying the right responsibility.

Moses had parted a sea. He had watched water break from a rock. And now he sat from morning till evening, judging people’s problems. Was this faithfulness?

“The next day Moses took his seat to serve as judge for the people, and they stood around him from morning till evening. ¹⁴ When his father-in-law saw all that Moses was doing for the people, he said, “What is this you are doing for the people? Why do you alone sit as judge, while all these people stand around you from morning till evening?” ¹⁵ Moses answered him, “Because the people come to me to seek God’s will. ¹⁶ Whenever they have a dispute, it is brought to me, and I decide between the parties and inform them of God’s decrees and instructions.” ¹⁷ Moses’ father-in-law replied, “What you are doing is not good. ¹⁸ You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone.” (Exodus 18 v 13-18)

Moses, the judge, oversaw maybe a million or more people.

Work can look like devotion when it isn’t, and others, like Jethro, see it before we do.

I’ve been brought up to ask, ‘Is this commanded work?’ Meaning simply, is this what God wants from me? There are moments when we need someone to come alongside and say, “What you are doing is not good” (v. 17).

The things that ruin us rarely look like sin; in fact, they can look like faithfulness. Indispensability can feel like holiness. It is usually just pride with nice packaging.

The big question is whether we are humble enough to let someone speak into our lives. Especially in reordering it.

The work God gives us is never meant to be carried alone before Him. We need others to help us. Jethro’s questions still stand over every overfull diary.

Is this commanded work, or is it just work I can’t let go of? Maybe someone close to you needs to answer that.

The title is purposely ambiguous to catch your eye. 

“Moses told his father-in-law about everything the Lord had done to Pharaoh and the Egyptians for Israel’s sake and about all the hardships they had met along the way and how the Lord had saved them. 9 Jethro was delighted to hear about all the good things the Lord had done for Israel in rescuing them from the hand of the Egyptians. 10 He said, “Praise be to the Lord, who rescued you from the hand of the Egyptians and of Pharaoh, and who rescued the people from the hand of the Egyptians. 11 Now I know that the Lord is greater than all other gods, for he did this to those who had treated Israel arrogantly.” 12 Then Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law, brought a burnt offering and other sacrifices to God, and Aaron came with all the elders of Israel to eat a meal with Moses’ father-in-law in the presence of God.” (Exodus 18 v 8-12)

The verses do not reveal that Jethro built an altar for this occasion, used the one Moses had built nearby (named Yahweh-Nissi), or even that he used an existing local altar. But he did bring sacrificial offerings to God; there was an altar. 

After Moses testifies to all that God had done, Jethro worships at an altar.

The testimony of what God has done always leads to worship. 

There are moments in our lives when we are just overcome with worship: “The Lord has done this for me” is our testimony (Luke 1: 25). Our hearts are filled with joy:“The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy” (Psalm 126 v 3). Is this your testimony also today? Are you in effect building an altar of praise for what He has done? 

“Oh, look what the Lord has done; Look what the Lord has done; He healed my body
He touched my mind; He saved me just in time; Oh, I’m gonna praise his name; Each day it’s just the same; Come on and praise Him” (Lindell Cooley 1995)

Let’s come back to the event. This place of worship in the wilderness brings a Gentile priest and the leaders of Israel together in worship, at the same meal, sitting together before God. The cross will do this fully and finally, but this event prophesies of that.

Finally, in verse 11, come those amazing words: “Now I know …” How would you finish that sentence off today? Jethro said, “Now I know that the Lord is greater than all other gods…” What do you know? What has the Lord proven to you? Importantly, now that you know, what will you do?

What does it take for a man who is a great leader to bow down in order to show respect?

“Now Jethro, the priest of Midian and father-in-law of Moses, heard of everything God had done for Moses and for his people Israel, and how the Lord had brought Israel out of Egypt. ² After Moses had sent away his wife Zipporah, his father-in-law Jethro received her ³ and her two sons. One son was named Gershom, for Moses said, “I have become a foreigner in a foreign land”; ⁴ and the other was named Eliezer, for he said, “My father’s God was my helper; he saved me from the sword of Pharaoh.” ⁵ Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law, together with Moses’ sons and wife, came to him in the wilderness, where he was camped near the mountain of God. ⁶ Jethro had sent word to him, “I, your father-in-law Jethro, am coming to you with your wife and her two sons.” ⁷ So Moses went out to meet his father-in-law and bowed down and kissed him. They greeted each other and then went into the tent. ⁸ Moses told his father-in-law about everything the Lord had done to Pharaoh and the Egyptians for Israel’s sake and about all the hardships they had met along the way and how the Lord had saved them.” (Exodus 18 v 1-8)

This is an interesting part of Moses’ story. A little of the behind the scenes of this amazing leader and his wife. The phrase “Moses had sent away” has led to all kinds of thoughts from people far more academic than I. Did Moses issue divorce papers because the words ‘sent away’ could indicate this in the Torah? Those who believe this cite the episode in chapter 4 when Moses failed to circumcise his son, and Zipporah had to step in and challenge him. I choose to believe it is simply that Zipporah and the children are absent from the plagues, the Passover and the crossing of the sea because Moses had already sent them back to her father in Midian, the desert, before all of these events.

Let’s go back to the text: When Jethro arrives, Moses goes out to meet him and bows down. This is cultural. Moses is showing respect to his father-in-law, who is also a priest. Jethro had looked after his family (I choose that opinion), and so Moses is now showing real gratitude.

The man who has stood face to face with Pharaoh. The man through whom the sea split in two. The man leading masses of people through the wilderness on the strength of a burning bush and a promise is bowing to a Midianite priest and shepherd, kissing him like a son greeting his father.

Moses’ authority in public never stopped him from honouring the people who’d shaped him in private.

Sometimes the truest measure of how far God has taken us is whether we still know how to bow to the people who knew us before we got there.

Have you ever been in a fight you didn’t start and weren’t sure you could finish? A battle that came out of nowhere?  A health crisis, a broken relationship or a spiritual dry season, and you ask the question: Is anyone fighting for me?

The Lord has never lost a battle!

“The Amalekites came and attacked the Israelites at Rephidim. ⁹ Moses said to Joshua, “Choose some of our men and go out to fight the Amalekites. Tomorrow I will stand on top of the hill with the staff of God in my hands.” ¹⁰ So Joshua fought the Amalekites as Moses had ordered, and Moses, Aaron and Hur went to the top of the hill. ¹¹ As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. ¹² When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset. ¹³ So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword. ¹⁴ Then the Lord said to Moses, “Write this on a scroll as something to be remembered and make sure that Joshua hears it, because I will completely blot out the name of Amalek from under heaven.” ¹⁵ Moses built an altar and called it The Lord is my Banner. ¹⁶ He said, “Because hands were lifted up against the throne of the Lord, the Lord will be at war against the Amalekites from generation to generation.” (Exodus 17 v 8-16)

Joshua fought, Moses prayed, but only God gave the victory over Amalek. It wasn’t Israel is my banner or Moses is my banner, or Joshua is my banner; rather, it was Yahweh-Nissi: THE-LORD-IS-MY-BANNER.

After this amazing victory, Moses built an altar.

It was a prophetic declaration. The altar stood in sight of the community. When future generations asked, “What is that altar?” the answer would be a testimony: “The Lord fought for us here.”

It had a name — Yahweh Nissi. “He called it The Lord is my Banner.” It said: “This is who we fight for, and this is who fights for us.” God Himself is our Banner. We don’t look to our weapons. It is Yahweh and Him alone. Today, it is the cross that is the banner. The cross is the altar. The name of Jesus is our Nissi — the banner we rally to when the battle rages and our arms grow heavy.

It carries a generational promise. “Because hands were lifted up against the throne of the Lord, the Lord will be at war against the Amalekites from generation to generation.” When the enemy comes against you, he is not just attacking you. He is attacking the one whose banner flies over your life. The banner has not been lowered. Yahweh Nissi has not retired.

Speak the name of Yahweh Nissi over your circumstances, as a faith declaration: “The Lord is my Banner over this marriage, over this illness, over this financial crisis, over this prodigal child.” He was the Banner at Rephidim. He was the Banner at Calvary. He is the Banner today over your home, your heart, your hardest days.

Build your altar. Speak His name. Hold up those around you. And know this above all: the Lord is still at war against every enemy of your soul, and He has never lost a battle.

Moses woke one day and found that the people he was responsible for were about to stone him. It’s a brutal way to start a morning; the very people he’d led out of slavery, fed with bread from heaven, and carried through the sea now had rocks in their hands. Leadership had turned, overnight, into a threat to his life.

Are you waking today to responsibilities that feel like too much? A workload, a family, a church, a decision, something that’s gone from manageable to overwhelming while you slept?

God’s way forward is this: “The Lord answered Moses, “Go out in front of the people. Take with you some of the elders of Israel and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. ⁶ I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.” So Moses did this in the sight of the elders of Israel.” (Exodus 17 v5-6).

1. Get some distance between you and your responsibility. Walk on ahead.
“Go out in front of the people” (v5). Before Moses can lead them again, God moves him away. Sometimes the first act of leadership is a step back, not a step forward.

2. Get a small accountable group of friends that you trust, and meet with them.
“Take with you some of the elders of Israel” (v5). Moses doesn’t go alone, and he doesn’t go to everyone. He takes a few people who’ve earned the right to see him under pressure. Isolation and crowds are both dangerous.

3. Take up again that person you really are: your identity (your staff) again. Believe in who you are.
“Take in your hand the staff” (v5). This is the same staff that turned into a snake before Pharaoh, that split the Red Sea, that has been in Moses’ hand through every act of deliverance so far. Picking it up again reminds him of who he already is.

4. Remind yourself of what you have achieved in the past. (You struck the Nile.)
The staff “with which you struck the Nile” (v5). God is specific. He doesn’t just say “your staff,” He points Moses back to a particular victory.  God corrects that lie of being overwhelmed by naming the last time you thought you couldn’t and yet you did.

5. Meet with me.
“I will stand there before you” (v6). God simply says, “I’ll be there.” Whatever today’s crisis is, it doesn’t get solved before you’ve stood in front of Him.

6. Let me take you back to the time when I first called you. (At Horeb.)
The rock is “at Horeb” (v6), the same mountain, almost certainly, where God first met Moses at the burning bush and called him to this task (Exodus 3:1). God brings him back to the place of calling, not to relive the past but to remember the voice that started it.

Let these lessons of Moses help you if you find yourself at Rephidim today.

The people of Israel had seen the sea split open. They had watched Pharaoh’s army swallowed by the waves. They had eaten bread from heaven every single morning for weeks. And now, camped at Rephidim, they were dying of thirst. So guess what they do?

“The whole Israelite community set out from the Desert of Sin, travelling from place to place as the Lord commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. ² So they quarrelled with Moses and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses replied, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you put the Lord to the test?” ³ But the people were thirsty for water there, and they grumbled against Moses. They said, “Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?” ⁴ Then Moses cried out to the Lord, “What am I to do with these people? They are almost ready to stone me.” ⁵ The Lord answered Moses, “Go out in front of the people. Take with you some of the elders of Israel and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. ⁶ I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.” So Moses did this in the sight of the elders of Israel. ⁷ And he called the place Massah and Meribah because the Israelites quarrelled and because they tested the Lord saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?”  (Exodus 17 v 1-7)

It seemed they’d forgotten everything God had already done.

“Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?” (v.3)

Today’s thirst has a way of erasing yesterday’s miracles. Present pain has a habit of making past faithfulness feel very distant.

Moses takes it to the Lord: “What am I to do with these people? They are almost ready to stone me” (v.4). Leadership always carries complaints upwards. It never internalises them.

God’s plan is mirrored in the New Testament.

Paul later writes that Israel “drank from the spiritual rock that accompanied them, and that rock was Christ” (1 Corinthians 10:4). The rock that was struck (only once – important for what will transpire!) is a shadow of the cross. Christ, judged in our place, becomes the source from which grace flows freely to those who deserve judgement instead.

That’s what makes Massah and Meribah, “testing” and “quarrelling”, such a strange kind of memorial. The place named for Israel’s failure becomes, in the same breath, the place of God’s provision. He doesn’t wait for their complaint to become gratitude before He acts. The water comes while the grumbling is still in the air. The epitome of grace.

“The Israelites ate manna forty years, until they came to a land that was settled; they ate manna until they reached the border of Canaan. (An omer is one-tenth of an ephah.)” — Exodus 16:35-36

We come to the end of this chapter with a short reminder: an omer is a tenth of an ephah, and the manna lasted forty years.

Forty years. Every morning, God fed His people who came to rely on His provision.

Is that your testimony? Years of God turning up for you, providing for you, simply being there for you, day by day. Until they reached Canaan, they met the faithfulness of God every single day.

They could have reached Canaan far sooner. But in this wilderness wandering, God taught them many things, and so many of them didn’t survive the experience. They went into the wilderness but never came out. And yet every day, God was there for them. This is the epitome of grace.

The wilderness was never meant to be their destination; it became their destination because they refused to trust God.

“It takes eleven days to go from Horeb to Kadesh Barnea by the Mount Seir road.” — Deuteronomy 1:2

Eleven days. Forty years. The distance was never the problem but the trust was.

Whatever wilderness you’re walking through, however long it’s lasted so far, God will continue to feed you until you reach the Promised Land. Amen!

I remember a song from my childhood that was incredibly simple:

He’s all I need, He’s all I need,
Jesus is all I need.

That was about it. Nothing complicated. And perhaps that is why I remember it. A little boy knowing that God was my everything.

“The Israelites ate manna forty years, until they came to a land that was settled; they ate manna until they reached the border of Canaan.” (Exodus 16 v 35)

God knows what His people need, and He provides it.

Fancy eating the same thing for forty years?

That was Israel’s experience in the wilderness.

Every morning, except on the Sabbath, manna appeared on the ground. They didn’t even really know what to call it. When they saw it, they asked, “What is it?”—and the name manna is connected with that question.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t exciting. It was simply God’s provision.

And there was enough.

Those who gathered much did not have too much, and those who gathered little did not have too little. God provided what was needed. He even instructed them to gather twice as much on the sixth day so they would have enough for the Sabbath.

For forty years, God faithfully provided for His people.

The wilderness was not their destination, but God did not take them through the wilderness without provision.

Eventually, the manna stopped. When Israel entered the Promised Land and began eating the produce of Canaan, the manna ceased.

But there is something deeper here for us.

Today, God’s provision is not manna.

His provision is Jesus.

Jesus said, “I am the bread of life.” (John 6:35)

The manna sustained Israel in the wilderness for a season. Jesus sustains us for the whole journey.

Every morning, the answer is still Jesus.

Day after day, there is no need to search for another source. No need to look somewhere else for what will ultimately satisfy the soul.

He is enough.

He is the All-sufficient One.

There may be seasons when life feels like a wilderness. There may be days when we don’t understand what God is doing or where He is taking us. But we can trust this: God will never ask us to walk where His grace cannot sustain us.

Until we reach the Promised Land of heaven, Christ remains our bread, our strength and our life.

He’s all I need.

And He always will be.

Two things are needed in our lives. An awareness of what God wants from our lives and an acknowledgment of what God has done for us. 

“The people of Israel called the bread manna. It was white like coriander seed and tasted like wafers made with honey. Moses said, “This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Take an omer of manna and keep it for the generations to come, so they can see the bread I gave you to eat in the wilderness when I brought you out of Egypt.’ ” So Moses said to Aaron, “Take a jar and put an omer of manna in it. Then place it before the Lord to be kept for the generations to come.” As the Lord commanded Moses, Aaron put the manna with the tablets of the covenant law, so that it might be preserved.” Exodus‬ ‭16‬:‭31‬-‭34‬ 

Manna didn’t last. That was the whole point, trust God for tomorrow. It was meant to teach a wilderness generation that provision comes from the hand of God, not from their own storehouses. Except.

Except for one omer. One jar, set apart, not to be eaten, but to be seen. Manna that didn’t rot, kept precisely so a people prone to forgetting would remember.

Every generation needs its equivalent of the jar of manna. Some tangible reminder that we did not get here by our own success.

The tablets of the law said what God required. The jar beside them said what God had already done. Law and grace, side by side in the same space.