The Gospel Throughout ScriptureSample

Moses is eighty years old and tending someone else’s sheep in a desert that is not his home, and you can feel the weight of those forty years in the way Scripture tells it—the silence, the sand, the slow burial of a man who once thought he was supposed to change the world but killed a man instead and ran. He has been hiding so long that the hiding has become his identity, and then a bush catches fire and will not stop burning, and God speaks from inside it, and nothing will ever be the same.

What strikes me is that God did not show up at the palace in Egypt or on some grand stage but in the backside of nowhere, in a life that looked like a waste, because God has always done His deepest work in the seasons the world writes off as lost time. Moses says, “Who am I that I should go?” and God answers with just His name—“I AM”—which is the most disorienting and beautiful non-answer in Scripture, because the sufficiency was never supposed to come from Moses. It was always in the name. God took a man with blood on his hands and a stutter on his tongue and split an ocean with him, and centuries later God Himself would put on flesh and step into Nazareth—looking unlikely to the world but carrying the fullness of deity in a carpenter’s frame—and split death itself wide open. The gospel has been hiding in Exodus all along, whispering that God does not recruit the competent—He resurrects the ones who have already given up on themselves.

Bring it to life: Stream Prince of Egypt on Wonder Project.