And thou shalt speak and say before Jehovah thy God, A perishing Aramaean was my father, and he went down to Egypt with a few, and sojourned there, and became there a nation, great, mighty, and populous.
An Israelite settled in the promised land brings God the first of his harvest. The verse gives him the exact words to say. His words are not about his crop. They are about his ancestor, a wandering man close to death. Why should a settled, prosperous worshipper start there?
Where the ESV says "Aramean," older translations say "Syrian." Where it says "wandering," they say "ready to perish." The name points back to Abraham's own relatives:
There are very few references to the Syrians in the early part of Scripture. Laban, "the Syrian," grandson of Nahor, Abraham's brother, is introduced in connection with Rebekah the wife of Isaac (Genesis 25:20; 28:5; 31:20, 24).
The worshipper starts at the lowest point of his story. One commentator sees worship in exactly that:
This is a very beautiful illustration of worship. "A Syrian ready to perish." Such was the origin. There is nothing to boast of, as far as nature is concerned. And as for the condition in which grace found them — what of it? Hard bondage in the land of Egypt. Toiling among the brick kilns, under the cruel whip of Pharaoh's taskmasters. But then, "We cried to the Lord." Here was their sure and blessed resource. It was all they could do, but it was enough. That cry of helplessness went straight up to the throne and to the heart of God. It brought Him down into the very middle of the brick kilns of Egypt.
The verse moves from one dying man to a great nation. The growth happened in Egypt, the place of their suffering. One writer sees that hardship serving God's promise:
Here we see grace in its first workings. A nation had a small beginning in the seventy souls that came into Egypt with Jacob. Set against that was their remarkable and unstoppable increase. Even the bondage they came into had already been promised to them. What seemed most against them was really the working out of promise for them. The hand of power works in disguise, but faith can see right through it. The story is essentially the same, whether told of the nation of Israel or of any of the Lord's redeemed. … We do not inherit grace. We came into the land of bondage with our father Adam.
This is not a plea from a man who wants blessing. The speaker holds a full basket. He has already arrived:
Here lay the root of the matter. "I am come." He does not say, "I am coming, hoping to come, or longing to come." No — but, "I am come." It must always be like this. We must know ourselves saved before we can offer the fruits of a known salvation. We may be entirely sincere in our desires for salvation, and most earnest in our efforts to obtain it. But we cannot help seeing that efforts to be saved and the fruits of a known and enjoyed salvation are completely different. The Israelite did not offer the basket of first fruits to get into the land. He offered it because he was already in it.
One writer sets this verse beside the charge to Gentile believers to remember what they once were:
Deuteronomy 26 and Ephesians 2 are two striking scriptures. They illustrate the position God's grace gives. They also call those who are blessed to keep living in the sense of it. … Israel, when in the land and enjoying their highest privilege in worship, were commanded to say before the Lord their God, "A Syrian ready to perish was my father." Gentile believers were raised with Jewish ones to the same position, set in Christ on high. They too were commanded to "Remember" what they were in the past. To forget the past because of the present position may be man's thought and way. It is not God's way for those who receive His grace.
Another writer applies that perishing father to every reader:
Lovely words! They brought to remembrance what they were and the grace the Lord showed when that Syrian ready to perish was called out. And this is only a picture of what we are by nature, "ready to perish."
- Origin. The confession starts with a father who wandered and was close to death. That family line had nothing to boast about.
- Grace. A helpless cry from the brick kilns reached God's heart, and He came down. The bondage that seemed to be against them was working out His promise.
- Increase. Seventy people went down to Egypt and became a great nation there. Only grace explains that increase.
- Possession. A man already in the land speaks these words, holding a full basket. He brings the fruit of a salvation he knows, not an effort to get saved.
- Memory. Blessing tempts people to forget where they came from. God commands the opposite: enjoy the place He gave, always aware of the grace that gave it.
And the Egyptians evil-entreated us, and afflicted us, and laid upon us hard bondage;
Deuteronomy 26 sets out what an Israelite said when he brought the first ripe fruit of the land to God. Verse 6 is the low point of that speech: cruelty, humiliation and forced labour under Egypt. Yet the man who says it stands at the altar with a full basket in his hands. Why must a happy worshipper recite his worst days?
This confession belongs to someone already settled in the land. One writer points to the tense of the opening line, quoting an older translation:
"A Syrian ready to perish was my father" (not "I am" — it was an old thing that was past and could not come back), "and he went down into Egypt, and was treated harshly, and the LORD brought us out, and has given us this land."
He confesses the harsh treatment as past. He stands in the land, with its fruit in his basket.
One writer draws out two things this verse shows: where Israel was, and what state they were in. He also separates Egypt from Syria, where the story began:
They were slaves in Egypt. That was both their condition and their position before Him: their condition was bondage, and their position was inside the territory where Satan ruled… Just as Syria, the wilderness and Canaan each picture something spiritual, so does Egypt. It is not man in his natural state as God made him. Nor is it man in his natural state fallen — that is Syria. Egypt is man in his natural state, fallen, and captive under the power of the enemy… Man had fallen, and he was under the enemy's power. God alone could deliver him now.
Another writer applies the picture to the moment the world stops being attractive:
Egypt is a clear picture of the world. The world once fascinated us as the scene of our pleasures. One of the first steps into spiritual blessing comes when that same world turns into a place of bitter bondage for us. Sin brings bitterness with it and we cannot escape it.
If the worshipper is happy, why mention the oppression? One writer answers that the memory keeps him a debtor to grace, and makes the rescue look greater:
The worshipper declared out loud that it was God who had done everything for him… He owed God this acknowledgment. Israel stood there only through His faithful sustaining grace. If he had not come as a debtor to that grace, with no claim of his own, he would have failed to recognise his true position. Did he then forget his own wretchedness? No. But he was in it no longer, and it made the greatness of his deliverance stand out.
The hard labour is not where the confession ends. The next line records a cry. One writer weighs how little it was, and how much it did:
"A Syrian ready to perish." Such was the origin. There is nothing to boast about, as far as nature goes. And as to the condition in which grace found them — what of it? Hard bondage in the land of Egypt. Toiling among the brick kilns, under the cruel whip of Pharaoh's taskmasters. But then, "We cried to the LORD." Here was their sure and blessed resource. It was all they could do; but it was enough. That cry of helplessness went straight up to the throne and to the heart of God. It brought Him down into the very middle of the brick kilns of Egypt.
Forgetting a bad past looks natural once life improves. One writer says God works the other way:
Forgetting the past because of your present position may be man's thought and man's way. It is not God's way for those who receive His grace. Nor will a position God gives lead to pride or indifference — not while we keep it in His presence, and enjoy it before and with Him who gave it.
The memory was also meant to change how he treated the poor:
They had suffered as slaves in Egypt, and God had stepped in with power and goodness to deliver them. The memory of both should have softened their hearts towards the poor and needy among their brothers. It should have humbled them in the presence of God as well. The gracious, godly Israelite would look at his poor brother's situation and see a chance to show the reality and excellence of that principle of grace on which God had acted towards himself.
- Bondage — Egypt pictures a person fallen and captive, held inside the enemy's own territory. Only God could break it.
- Cry — helplessness was all Israel had to offer, and it was enough to bring God down among the brick kilns.
- Rescue — the confession says "was", not "is". The man telling it stands in the land with a full basket.
- Memory — recalling the worst days does not spoil the joy. It measures the size of the deliverance.
- Mercy — the man who remembers his own slavery opens his hand to the poor.
and we cried to Jehovah, the God of our fathers, and Jehovah heard our voice, and looked on our affliction, and our labour, and our oppression;
These words belong to a set speech. A farmer stands in the promised land with a basket of first fruits and tells God the story of how he got there. Before he can say anything about the harvest, he has to say what he was — a slave who could do nothing but cry out.
The worshipper names three things: affliction, toil, oppression. They describe a condition, not a mistake. One writer explains what Egypt stands for, and how it differs from Syria, the other place named in the same confession:
It is not man in nature as God made him; nor is it man in nature fallen (that is Syria). Egypt is man in nature, fallen, and captive under the power of the enemy. So a redeemed Israelite, now living in the land, comes to worship the Lord with his basket of first fruits. He should admit that this was once his own state... Man in nature had fallen, and he was under the enemy's power; God alone could now deliver.
They cried. That was the whole of their contribution:
"A Syrian ready to perish." Such was the origin. There is nothing to boast of, so far as nature is concerned. And as to the condition in which grace had found them; what of it? Hard bondage in the land of Egypt. Toiling among the brick kilns, beneath the cruel lash of Pharaoh's taskmasters. But then, "we cried to the LORD." Here was their sure and blessed resource. It was all they could do; but it was enough. That cry of helplessness went straight up to the throne and to the heart of God. It brought Him down into the very middle of the brick kilns of Egypt.
God heard their voice and saw their affliction. What He then told Moses reached further than the way out of Egypt:
Exodus 3 shows this plainly. There the Lord tells Moses what He means to do, and speaks with tenderness of having seen His people's affliction, heard their cry, and known their sorrow. So His purpose of grace covered more than rescue from slavery. It also covered bringing them into the blessings of Canaan. For Israel to settle for the first and fall short of the second would dishonour that blessed purpose of divine grace. It would even be presumptuous self-will.
It looks strange to bring up slavery at a harvest festival. But he is not reliving his bondage. He is measuring how far God has carried him:
The worshipper said out loud that it was God who had done everything for him. This is how he presented himself. Israel owed God this acknowledgment. They were in the land only because His faithful grace had held them up. If he had not come as a man who owed everything to God's grace, he would have failed to recognise his true position. Is it then that he forgot his own wretchedness? No. But he was in it no longer; and it served to exalt the greatness of his deliverance.
Saying it out loud is itself the offering:
Simply confessing this is praise. We owe it to Him to say plainly and without hesitating: Christ has saved us. Is there presumption in this? No, it is His due. We have done nothing, except, indeed, incurred the penalty which Christ has borne in His own body on the tree.
A man who remembers his own oppression should find it hard to oppress others. Commentators tie this memory to how Israel treated the poor:
Remembering all they had suffered as slaves in Egypt, and how God stepped in with power and goodness to rescue them, should have softened their hearts towards the poor and needy among their brothers. It should also have humbled them in God's presence... When the gracious, godly Israelite saw his poor brother's situation, he saw a chance. He could show how real and excellent that principle of grace is — the grace on which God had acted towards him.
- Cry. In slavery, crying to God was all they could do. Commentators say it was enough. Being helpless does not shut you out — it is a real resource.
- Heard. The cry reached God's throne and brought Him down into the brick kilns; He heard, saw, and knew their sorrow.
- Out. Rescue from slavery was only half of His purpose. Settling for escape and stopping short of the land would miss what grace intended.
- In. The man who says all this is standing in the land holding fruit. He has not forgotten his misery — he is no longer in it, and remembering it makes the rescue look larger.
- Over. Remembered grace flows outward. People who once suffered oppression should show mercy to the poor among them.
and Jehovah brought us forth out of Egypt with a powerful hand, and with a stretched-out arm, and with great terribleness, and with signs, and with wonders;
Verse 8 is not a narrator's report. It is a line the Israelite had to say out loud before God. In a few short phrases he traces his whole story back to one cause: God's own hand and arm.
The worshipper credits everything in these words to God. That is why he had to speak them at all.
The worshipper declared aloud that it was God who had accomplished everything for him. That is how he presented himself. He owed God this acknowledgment. Israel was there only through His faithful sustaining grace. If he had not come as a debtor to that grace, with nothing to claim, he would have failed to recognise his true position. Does that mean he forgot his own wretchedness? No. But he was in it no longer; and it served to show how great his deliverance was.
The line before this one says they cried out and the Lord heard. That cry is what the outstretched arm answers.
"A Syrian ready to perish." Such was the origin. There is nothing to boast about as far as nature goes. And what about the condition grace found them in? Hard bondage in the land of Egypt. Toiling among the brick kilns under the cruel whip of Pharaoh's taskmasters. But then, "We cried to the Lord." Here was their sure and blessed resource. It was all they could do; but it was enough. That cry of helplessness went straight up to the throne and to the heart of God. It brought Him down into the very middle of the brick kilns of Egypt.
The phrases are not poetry only. They point to events the nation had watched with its own eyes.
In Egypt they suffered for many years as oppressed slaves. Then God answered their desperate prayers and brought them out with a mighty hand. The ten plagues sent on Egypt and the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea were things never to be forgotten.
Writers describe two stages in Israel's rescue. Shelter under the lamb's blood was not yet freedom.
The first part of redemption was the payment of the ransom; and that, as we have seen, was done by the blood of Christ. But Israel was not redeemed — though perfectly safe under the shelter of the blood — as long as they were in Egypt. So the second part, the completion of their redemption, came when God brought them out of the land of Egypt through the Red Sea, with a high hand and an outstretched arm. There He destroyed Pharaoh and all his army in its mighty waters. The shed blood satisfied God as Judge. Now He can act for His people as their Deliverer, and so He brings them out of Egypt in power.
If God had merely preferred one nation, His judgment on Egypt would be favouritism. One writer asks what right God had to spare Israel.
The children of Israel were as much sinners as the Egyptians. What right had God to favour the children of Israel over the Egyptians? The Egyptians as a nation had enslaved the children of Israel, and when God demanded that they let them go to worship in the desert, Pharaoh refused. So God in righteousness visited Egypt with His severe displeasure. On the other hand God could only redeem His people by first meeting His own righteous claims.
The chapter turns this memory outward. What God had done for Israel should shape how a free man treated his poor brother.
They had suffered as slaves in Egypt. Then God stepped in with power and goodness to deliver them. Remembering all this should have softened their hearts towards the poor and needy among their brothers. It should also have humbled them in the presence of God… A gracious, godly Israelite would look at his poor brother's circumstances and see a chance to show the reality and excellence of that principle of grace on which God had acted towards himself.
Darby reads Israel's rescue as a picture of the believer's own.
All this applies in spirit to the Christian. He was the slave of Satan, and miserable in himself. God looked with compassion on his affliction, and delivered him with "a mighty hand." He has rescued him from this Egyptian world, and made him an heir of glory in the heavenly places.
- Cry — Helplessness was all Israel had, and it was enough. The cry from the brick kilns reached the throne and brought God down.
- Blood — The lamb's blood sheltered them, but sheltered slaves are still slaves. The ransom came first; then the rescue began.
- Arm — The mighty hand and outstretched arm mean the plagues and the Red Sea. Power finished the rescue the blood began.
- Righteousness — God did not rescue favourites. Israel were sinners too, so He met His own righteous claims first, then acted as Deliverer.
- Confession — The freed man says none of it was his doing. A man who says that shows his poor brother the same grace God showed him.
and he hath brought us into this place, and hath given us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey!
An Israelite brings a basket of the land's first fruit to God and says out loud what God has done — from slavery in Egypt to the land he now stands in. This verse is where that story lands: God did not stop at the rescue, He gave a home.
The words "brought us into this place" finish something that began in Egypt. From the start God meant to do more than break their chains. He meant to bring them into the land.
Exodus 3 shows this clearly. There the Lord tells Moses what He intends. He speaks with feeling of having seen His people's affliction, heard their cry, and known their sorrow. So the purpose of grace included not only deliverance from slavery, but the bringing into the blessings of Canaan. For Israel to be content with the first and fall short of the second would dishonour the blessed purpose of God's grace, and would even be proud self-will.
Read the confession and notice who acts. The man with the basket claims nothing. He reports what God did and holds up the fruit as proof.
The Lord had accomplished everything. He did it according to the love of His heart and the faithfulness of His word. Not one bit had failed. "I have come." And "I have brought the fruit." The fruit of what? Of Egypt? No — "of the land which you, O LORD, have given me." The worshipper's lips proclaimed the completeness of the Lord's work. The worshipper's basket contained the fruit of the Lord's land. There was no room for a doubt, no ground for a question. It was all of God from first to last. He had brought them out of Egypt, and He had brought them into Canaan. He had filled their baskets with the mellow fruits of His land, and their hearts with His praise.
He could bring the basket only because he was already home. He was not bargaining for entry. He was reporting arrival.
Here lay the root of the matter. "I have come." He does not say, "I am coming, hoping to come, or longing to come." No — but, "I have come." So it must always be. We must know ourselves saved before we can offer the fruits of a known salvation. We may be entirely sincere in our desires after salvation, most earnest in our efforts to get it. But we cannot help seeing the difference. Efforts to be saved are one thing; the fruits of a known and enjoyed salvation are quite another. The Israelite did not offer the basket of firstfruits to get into the land. He offered it because he was already in it.
The phrase describes abundance, and each of the two words carries its own weight.
Salvation given by such a God must be a complete salvation, and it is not complete until the land of promise is their own. The land is a good land and a large one, flowing with milk and honey. It is not a land of narrowness, as Egypt is; and heaven is not limited by the needs and struggles of earth. There is all "fatness," which the word for milk literally means, and all sweetness, as the honey implies. Salvation for us must result in satisfaction, or it is not salvation.
Commentators differ here. One reads the two figures as Scripture received and Scripture passed on:
Milk speaks of the Word of God (1 Peter 2:2). Honey stands for the ministry of the Word of God (Song of Solomon 4:11) — that is, the sweetness believers have gathered from the Word and then pass on to others.
The chapter deals with earthly ground, yet one writer finds in it the spirit of worship.
There is another passage that applies in form to things on earth. But it shows the spirit of worship beautifully. I refer to Deuteronomy 26. In type, Canaan represents heaven. Israel, arrived in Canaan, enjoyed the promise. Read the chapter. The worshipper has already come to the good land that God gave him as his inheritance. He presents himself with "the fruits of the land." This is what we have to offer God — the grateful and joyful outpouring of hearts filled with heavenly blessedness.
The memory of the rescue was meant to produce thanks — and one writer carries that forward to believers now.
But now Israel had been brought to "a land flowing with milk and honey" (v.9). They had reason to thank and praise God with full hearts, and never to forget how kindly He had dealt with them. Christians surely have even greater reason for thanks and praise. God has delivered them from the miserable bondage of sin and blessed them in Christ with "every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 1:3).
- Out, then in. God's purpose was never only escape from Egypt. To settle for rescue alone falls short of the grace that promised a land.
- His hand, not mine. Every verb in the confession belongs to God — He brought them out, brought them in, and filled the basket.
- Arrived, not hoping. The offering rests on "I have come." Fruit is the proof of a salvation you already have, never the price of getting it.
- Fatness and sweetness. The land's description promises satisfaction — salvation that ends in abundance, not in narrowness.
- So, worship. A remembered rescue and a present portion turn into thanks. Believers today have even more reason to praise.
And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruits of the land, which thou, Jehovah, hast given me. And thou shalt set it down before Jehovah thy God, and worship before Jehovah thy God.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.