Liam Hungate
Tonight returned to Exodus, picking up with Moses as a shepherd in Midian after fleeing Egypt. Quick refresher: Moses was born while Pharaoh had ordered every Israelite baby boy killed, was placed in a basket on the river, and was found and raised inside Pharaoh's own household, all while wrestling with whether he belonged with the Egyptians or the Israelites.
The lesson opened by imagining the kind of elaborate, meticulously planned escape it would take to break just one person out of a high-security prison, every move calculated, everything depending on human effort. Then it scaled that up: not one person, but millions, set free not through planning or effort, but purely through God orchestrating every step.
Passages: Exodus 3, 12-15; Psalm 136
God called Moses through a burning bush on Mount Horeb, the same mountain where His presence shows up again and again through Exodus. God had heard the cries of His enslaved people and was ready to act, choosing Moses to lead them out. Moses' response was to ask, "Who am I to do this?" And he wasn't wrong, he wasn't worthy. But the point isn't our worthiness. It's what God wants to do through us. God answered simply: "I will certainly be with you," promising that Israel would one day return to this very mountain, free and worshiping.
Given his track record, Moses wanted credentials before going back to confront Pharaoh. God gave him His name: I AM WHO I AM, Yahweh, rendered as "LORD" in all capital letters throughout the Old Testament. It's a name that points to God being eternal and self-existing, simply and always is. With that name behind him, Moses had everything he needed, along with a warning that Egypt wouldn't let Israel go easily.
After ten plagues broke Pharaoh's resistance, the final one, Passover, sealed it. God warned that He would pass through Egypt and take the firstborn son of every household, but offered Israel a way out: sacrifice a lamb and paint its blood on the doorposts, and death would pass over that home. A life given on behalf of others made forgiveness possible, and God wanted this night remembered permanently, with the same posture of gratitude and remembrance that should mark how we live in response to being saved. Pharaoh, finally broken after all he'd endured, let Israel go and even asked Moses for a blessing from the God he had spent so long defying.
Somewhere around two to three million Israelites walked out of Egypt after 430 years of captivity. God didn't just lead them through Moses, He was physically present with them, a cloud covering and guiding them by day and a pillar of fire lighting the way by night, described as the original GPS. He deliberately routed them away from war and opposition, protection they likely never fully realized was happening.
Freedom didn't mean the danger was over. Just days into the journey, Pharaoh changed his mind and pursued them with his army. Trapped between the sea and the approaching Egyptians, with no weapons and nowhere to run, Israel was terrified. That trapped feeling was the point: it's often not the big things we already know only God can handle that trip us up, but the smaller things we think we can manage on our own.
With the Egyptians closing in, God split the sea and Israel crossed on dry ground with walls of water on either side, one of the greatest miracles in Scripture. There was no plan or fighting involved, only faith in a God who rescues, the way a lifeguard pulls in someone who's been swept out too far. Exodus is a small picture of the larger freedom God wants to give: freedom and protection from sin, death, and the enemy. When the pursuing Egyptian army followed them into the sea, the waters closed over them, and Israel responded with a song of praise, exactly the posture of gratitude we're meant to carry for our own rescue.
The night closed in Psalm 136, a psalm built entirely around the refrain that God's love endures forever. Where do you feel stuck right now, like there's no way out? What are you trying to fix or manage on your own instead of trusting God with it, whether that's anxiety, a struggling relationship, or something you've tried to fix over and over? The same God who rescued Israel at the Red Sea is the only one who can rescue you too.
A closer look at the ten plagues that led up to this moment.
These are the same questions the group wrestled with tonight. They are a good way to keep the conversation going at the dinner table.
A few easier openers if you want to start smaller: