And these are the names of the sons of Israel who had come into Egypt; with Jacob had they come, each with his household
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Reuben, Simeon, Levi, and Judah;
The book of Exodus opens with a list of names. Reuben, Simeon, Levi and Judah head that list — the first four sons of Leah, counted as the family entered Egypt.
The list is not a fresh start. It ties this book to the one before it.
The first five verses of Exodus show that it continues the book of Genesis, for they confirm what Genesis 46:8-27 records in more detail. You would expect this small group of 70 people to blend into the Egyptian nation. Instead, they kept an identity totally distinct from them.
Twelve men and seventy people are nothing beside the nation they entered. Yet God had every name written down.
It is God's register of Jacob and his house... The time was approaching when they would exchange the life of a family for that of a people. In Genesis that family had already grown into twelve families. Their growth is one of the opening facts of Exodus. Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things that are little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
Leah gave each of these four names, and each one carries a meaning. Read in the birth order that Exodus follows, one writer heard a sequence in them.
Reuben (behold a son!); Simeon (hearing); Levi (joined); Judah (praise). This is the order of the sons of Jacob according to their birth. It tells out the gospel. In the blessing of Moses the order is: Reuben (behold a son!); Judah (praise); Levi (joined). Simeon (hearing) is left out. When the Lord comes Israel will behold Him as the Son and will break out in praise and worship and become joined to Him. No "hearing" is needed then.
The fourth name closes the group, and it came out of a hard marriage. Leah was the unloved wife, and by her fourth son her words had changed.
Never do we hear of her soul rising so high. The grief-stricken woman breaks out into praise of Jehovah. Her fourth son carries that praise in the name she gave him that day. Yes, of Judah came according to the flesh the Christ, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen. How much His grace rises above our praise!
Reuben stands first here because he was born first. But the order in which these names appear varies across Scripture, and one writer notes that the arrangement here "differs from that of Numbers 2 and 3." Reading the same four names in Jacob's dying prophecy, another commentator finds the first three telling one story and the fourth another.
So the whole series would run like this: Reuben, Simeon, and Levi, the moral character and failure of responsible Israel. As always, it turns out to be corruption and violence: such is man. Next, the purpose of God in Judah: he remains until Shiloh comes, to whom the gathering of the peoples belongs.
Two names hover over the list. The father is called Israel in the opening phrase, but Jacob when the arrival into Egypt is described. One writer treats the switch as deliberate.
It is striking how the book opens... Jacob means Supplanter. His other name, the one God gave him, is not given here: it would be out of place. They are indeed the "sons of Israel," but they "came to Egypt with Jacob, each with his household." We also came into the land of bondage with our father Adam.
Yet the better name still stands over them in Egypt.
The beginning of the book of Exodus shows them in a servitude that was nothing like what God wanted for them. They were Pharaoh's slaves... For the moment they were the servants of Pharaoh. But God regarded them as "the sons of Israel," and He accomplishes their deliverance so that they might serve Him.
- Named. The verse lists names, not a crowd. God records what the world would count too small to write down.
- Named as sons. God calls them sons of Israel while they are Pharaoh's slaves. The title fits His purpose for them, not their circumstances.
- Named with meaning. Behold a son, hearing, joined, praise — one commentator hears the gospel in the order of Leah's four names.
- Named in order. One commentator reads Reuben, Simeon and Levi as the failure of responsible man. Judah, fourth and last here, carries God's purpose forward to Christ.
- Named for deliverance. They entered Egypt with Jacob the supplanter, as we entered bondage with Adam. The God who kept their names is the God who brings them out to serve Him.
Issachar, Zebulun, and Benjamin;
Exodus opens with a list. Seventy people came into Egypt with Jacob, and Issachar, Zebulun and Benjamin stand in the middle of that list. Why does a book about rescue begin by naming a family?
The book begins with the word "and." So this list of names is not a fresh start. It carries on a story already told.
The opening verses take us back once more to the end of Genesis. As already said, the word "now" (literally, "and") makes Exodus a continuation of the previous book. They had come into Egypt while Joseph was already there. Joseph and all his brothers had died, but their descendants multiplied fast. The Hebrew word "increased" means "swarmed."
Seventy people settled inside a much larger nation.
The first five verses of Exodus show that it continues the book of Genesis, because they confirm what Genesis 46:8-27 records in more detail. Yet these 70 people did not blend into the Egyptian nation, as you would expect them to. They kept an identity completely distinct from Egypt. Since that time, even though Israel has been scattered for centuries among other nations, God has kept a clear distinction between them and all Gentile nations.
One writer notices which of the father's two names Exodus uses here. He quotes an older translation of verse 1.
It is striking how the book opens. "Now these are the names of the children of Israel who came into Egypt. Every man and his household came with Jacob." Jacob means Supplanter — the one who takes another's place. His other name, the one God gave him, does not appear here: it would be out of place. They are indeed the "children of Israel," but "every man and his household came with Jacob." We too came into the land of slavery with our father Adam.
Benjamin closes this verse, but Joseph's name never appears beside his brothers. One writer compares the order here with the order in Numbers.
The order here differs from the order in Numbers 2 and 3. […] Joseph, a picture of Christ, who receives his brothers, is completely set apart from them.
Why did God bring this family to Egypt at all?
Egypt was the nursery God provided for the chosen race while they grew from one great family — the sons and grandsons of one father — into a people ready for the inheritance meant for them. He sheltered them in mercy for a time, so that they would grow all the more under hardship when it came. Hardship was bound to come, because people are hostile to anyone who claims a relationship with the true God.
The hardship did not take God by surprise. He had spoken about it long before it happened.
The state the children of Israel are in at Exodus 1 was foretold many years before. God had said to Abraham: "Know for certain that your offspring will be sojourners in a land that is not theirs and will be servants there, and they will be afflicted for four hundred years. But I will bring judgment on the nation that they serve, and afterward they shall come out with great possessions" (Gen. 15:13-14). That is the history of the first twelve chapters of Exodus. So at chapter one we stand right at the point where God begins to carry out His ways with His people.
One writer reads the whole chapter out of this small number.
Here we see grace in its first working: the small beginning of a nation in the seventy people who came into Egypt with Jacob, set against their amazing and unstoppable increase. Even the slavery they come into had already been promised to them. What seemed most against them was in fact the working out of promise for them. The hand of power works in disguise, yet faith can see straight through the disguise.
- Continued. Exodus starts with the word "and." The list is not a new beginning. It is Genesis carried forward.
- Counted. Issachar, Zebulun and Benjamin are three names out of seventy. That small group never blended into Egypt.
- Carried. They came in with Jacob, not with Israel. One writer sees a picture of how we all came into slavery with Adam.
- Contained. Egypt sheltered the family first and crushed it later. God had told Abraham about the hardship, the rescue and the great possessions that would follow.
- Compounded. Seventy names grew into a multitude. The pressure that looked like ruin was God's promise at work in disguise.
Dan and Naphtali; Gad and Asher.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And all the souls that had come out of the loins of Jacob were seventy souls; and Joseph was in Egypt.
Exodus opens by finishing a list begun in Genesis: eleven sons, their households, and a total of seventy, with Joseph counted apart because he had gone ahead of them all. Two questions sit in this short line: how Scripture reaches seventy, and why God records so small a number at all.
The first five verses do not tell a new story. They sum up one already told, and they set the human reason for the move beside God's reason.
The first five verses give a short statement of the names of Jacob's sons who came into Egypt with their father. They and their households, together with Joseph and his house already in Egypt, numbered seventy souls. The details, of which this is a brief summary, are found in Genesis 46. The immediate reason they went down to Egypt was the famine. But God was only carrying out His own purposes — through the famine, and through the wickedness of Jacob's sons in selling their brother to the Ishmaelites.
The number looks odd until you notice that Scripture gives more than one total. Each counts a different group. Genesis 46 lists sixty-six who travelled with Jacob, and the note about Joseph explains the rest.
Genesis 46:27 tells us that all the persons of the house of Jacob who came into Egypt were seventy. How is it worked out? Because Joseph and his two sons who were born to him in Egypt were there already. So these, with Jacob, as stated, made up the number of seventy souls. … If we look at the beginning of Exodus 1, we again find the list spoken of as seventy. It includes Jacob's eleven sons by name, who came from his own body and went with him into Egypt. And in exact agreement with Genesis 46:27, it adds that Joseph was already in Egypt.
Stephen, retelling this history later in Scripture, counts seventy-five. Commentators explain the gap in different ways. One points to the Septuagint, the old Greek translation of the Old Testament, which adds extra descendants:
It is God's register of Jacob and his house, "seventy" souls including Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons, "sixty-six" without these. The Septuagint quoted by Stephen speaks of seventy-five, because it adds Manasseh's son Machir and grandson Gilead, and Ephraim's two sons, Shuthelah and Tahan, with Shuthelah's son Eran or Edom.
Another writer refuses to force the numbers and stops where Scripture stops:
We do not offer any definite solution of the difficulty, nor is it needful to prove exactly how the list of seventy-five was made up. If we had been told that two of his sons' wives had died, it would be made clear, but we are not told, and we must be silent.
Older translations count "souls" where modern ones count persons. One writer traces that word and shows what hangs on it:
I find the word (nephesh) "soul" used for the whole man just as it is often used now, in Genesis 12:5, Genesis 14:21, Exodus 1:5, Numbers 15:27-28, and in other places… How fitting, then, that we find in Scripture, as we do, that sin, atonement, redemption, conversion, and salvation are all connected with it — with "nephesh," the soul. For it is the man, spirit and soul and body, that has sinned. And it is the man who needs this power of God put forth in grace on his behalf.
Scripture sets this small number right before an account of explosive growth.
Here we see grace in its first workings. A nation begins small, in the seventy souls that came into Egypt with Jacob. Set that against their remarkable and unstoppable increase. God had already promised them even the bondage they come into, and what seemed most against them was the working out of promise for them. The hand of power works in disguise, yet a disguise faith can see through. It is the same story at heart, whether told of the nation of Israel or of any of the Lord's redeemed.
Scripture's care over such a small figure is itself part of the lesson.
Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things little in man's eyes. Human nature delights in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
A family of seventy is not yet a people. Egypt is where one became the other.
Egypt was the nursery God provided for the chosen race. There it grew from a great family — the sons and grandsons of one father — into a people fit for their destined inheritance. God sheltered them in mercy for a season, so that they might grow all the more under hardship when it came, as it had to.
- Seventy counted. Sixty-six travelled with Jacob. Add Jacob, Joseph and Joseph's two sons, and you reach seventy. The note about Joseph makes the totals agree.
- Seventy questioned. Stephen's seventy-five follows the Greek Old Testament. Writers explain the gap in different ways, and one refuses to settle what Scripture leaves unsaid.
- Seventy weighed. "Souls" here means whole persons. Scripture ties the soul to sin, atonement, redemption and salvation.
- Seventy multiplied. Scripture sets the tiny figure against unstoppable increase. God had promised even the coming bondage, so what looked hostile was promise at work.
- Seventy placed. Egypt was the nursery where a family grew into a nation. Shelter came first, hardship after. Famine brought them down, but God's purpose kept them there.
And Joseph died, and all his brethren, and all that generation.
Exodus opens with the family of seventy who came down to Egypt. Then it closes the book on them: Joseph, his brothers, and their whole generation are gone. Did God's promises to that family die with them?
Israel entered Egypt on the best possible terms. They had royal favour and Joseph's high position. One commentator sets that comfort against what God had already told Abraham.
God had shown Abraham in a vision that his descendants would live as strangers in a land not their own, and would be in bondage and affliction for four hundred years. They would come out with great wealth, and God would judge the masters who oppressed them. Israel came down to Egypt under the prestige of its greatest governor and the warmest royal favour. They settled in the best of the land, in Goshen, so they might have expected nothing but ease and honour. But despite appearances, Egypt in the Lord's eyes meant servitude and affliction. That is just what happened once Joseph's protection was gone. The word of God stands and cannot fail, whatever the weakness of man or the pride of unbelief.
The verse reads like an ending. But the God who made the promises does not die, and the timing of what came next was never in human hands.
Faith rests on the immovable rock of God's eternal Word, not on the shifting sands of human affairs. Come what may, it stays in that place of strength. "Joseph died, and all his brothers and all that generation." What then? Could death affect the plans of the living God? Surely not. He only waited for the appointed moment, the due time, and then He made the most hostile forces serve the working out of His purposes.
The next verse answers the death notice with an explosion of life. One writer explains how seventy people became a nation so fast, and who else was counted with them.
Joseph and all his brothers had passed away, but their descendants multiplied rapidly. The Hebrew word "increased" means "swarmed." Only about 64 years had passed since Joseph's death. Because that is such a short time, unbelief has sneered at this description of the increase. People usually forget that a very large number of servants must have come with the 70 who entered Egypt. Abraham had 318 servants born in his house. Jacob had a still larger number. These servants had come into the covenant too, though they were not natural descendants... Yet even this does not fully explain the great increase. It was miraculous, the fulfilment of the promises given to the patriarchs. God witnessed by it that they were His people.
Israel thrived in Egypt just after burying the last man who had known the promises firsthand. That prosperity had a cause.
After the statement that "Joseph died, and all his brothers and all that generation" (v. 6), the story moves quickly on to their situation and condition. First, it points to their increase and their prosperity... They were the children of promise, even in Egypt, and as such God's favour was resting on them. That is why we see this picture of prosperity on earth. God never forgets His people, although they may forget Him.
The long years after Joseph's funeral were not wasted time. Egypt had a job to do in forming a family into a nation.
Egypt was the nursery God provided for the chosen race while they grew from one great family — the sons and grandsons of one father — into a people fit for the inheritance meant for them. In mercy He sheltered them for a time, so that they would grow all the more under hardship when it came. And it had to come, because people are hostile to anyone who claims a link with the true God.
Joseph died, but he was not forgotten. His coffin stayed in Egypt, and someone had to keep it.
Joseph was a man of faith, a man of vision. His bones remained in Egypt for something like three hundred years. Had God forgotten? Generations came and went. A Pharaoh arose who did not know Joseph. Clearly Joseph's brothers took care of the coffin, and each generation handed the trust on to the next.
- A generation ends — Joseph, his brothers, and their whole generation die. The human protection that made Egypt comfortable is gone, and God's word to Abraham about bondage starts to come true.
- God does not end — death cannot touch the plans of the living God. He waited for the appointed moment, then made the most hostile forces serve His purposes.
- The promise outgrows the funeral — in about 64 years, seventy people "swarmed" into a nation. The increase was miraculous, and it marked them out as God's people.
- Favour they may forget — they prospered as children of promise even in Egypt. God never forgets His people, although they may forget Him.
- The coffin keeps waiting — Joseph's bones stayed in Egypt for about three hundred years. His brothers cared for the coffin, and each generation passed the trust to the next.
And the children of Israel were fruitful, and swarmed and multiplied, and became exceeding strong; and the land was full of them.
Seventy people came down to Egypt with Jacob, and their descendants grew into a vast nation — the verse piles up one verb after another to say it. Two questions follow: is this God keeping an old promise, and why does such blessing end in slavery?
Some have mocked the scale of this growth as impossible. One writer answers them, starting with the word itself.
The Hebrew word translated "increased" means "swarmed." This verse emphasises their wonderful increase both in numbers and in power. Only a short time had passed after Joseph's death, some sixty-four years, so unbelief has sneered at this description of their increase. People usually overlook that besides the seventy souls who came into Egypt, a very large number of servants must have come with them. Abraham had 318 servants born in his house. Jacob had a still larger number. The covenant took these servants in too, though they were not natural descendants: the command of circumcision covered every male born in the house or bought with money... Yet even this does not fully explain the great increase. It was miraculous, the fulfilment of the promises given to the patriarchs. God witnessed by it that they were His people.
This growth was no accident of history. It matched words God had spoken to Abraham long before.
The descendants of Abraham, to whom the promises of God were made, were in Egypt... They were like the sand on the seashore for multitude. This was the vine God brought out of Egypt (Psalm 80:8).
The growth happened in a foreign land that would soon turn hostile. One writer sees that place as chosen on purpose.
Egypt was the providential nursery for the chosen race. There they grew from one great family — the sons and grandsons of a single father — into a people fit for the inheritance God had destined for them. In mercy He sheltered them for a season, so that they might grow all the more under hardship when it came. And it had to come, because men resent anyone who claims a link with the true God.
Numbers were not the only thing that set this people apart. One writer points to what did not change.
You would expect this small number of seventy persons to blend into the Egyptian nation. Instead they kept an identity totally distinct from them. Israel has been scattered among other nations for centuries since. Yet God has preserved a clear distinction between them and all other nations, even giving them their land back in 1948.
One writer takes Egypt here as a picture of something wider. He reads their prosperity as a sign of God's favour.
In Scripture Egypt is a picture of the world, and so Israel in Egypt becomes a picture of man's natural condition... First comes their increase, and indeed their prosperity... They were the children of promise, even though in Egypt, and God's favour rested on them as such. So we see this picture of earthly prosperity. God never forgets His people, although they may forget Him.
This blessing ends in slavery. One writer says that turn was no accident.
Here we see grace at its first work. A nation begins small, in the seventy souls who came into Egypt with Jacob, and then grows in a marvellous way that nothing could stop. God had already promised them even the bondage they come into, and what seemed most against them was really the working out of promise for them. The hand of power works in disguise, yet in a way faith can see through. It is essentially the same story, whether told of the nation of Israel or of any of the Lord's redeemed.
Another writer shows where that promise was given, and what it means for every dark turn in the story.
Long before this, God had said to Abram that his offspring would be strangers in a land that was not theirs, that they would serve that nation and be afflicted four hundred years, that He would judge that nation, and that afterwards they would come out with great possessions. This is the history of the first twelve chapters of Exodus. Whatever men do, even in wickedness and open rebellion, God makes it serve the purposes of His own grace and love.
- Promise — the increase was not luck. Commentators call it miraculous: "the fulfilment of the promises given to the patriarchs," and God's own witness that these were His people.
- Place — Egypt was the "providential nursery." There one family grew into a people, sheltered for a season before the hardship that would make them stronger.
- Preservation — they lived inside a greater culture and kept "an identity totally distinct." One writer traces that distinction through the centuries of Israel's scattering.
- Presence — prosperity came while they were still in Egypt, before any rescue: "God never forgets His people, although they may forget Him."
- Pressure — the growth led to the slavery, and God had foretold that too. "What seemed most against them was really the working out of promise for them" — and the same holds for any of the Lord's redeemed.
And there arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.
A new king takes the throne in Egypt, and the man who once saved the country from famine counts for nothing with him. Everything that follows — the slavery, the brick-kilns, the rescue — hangs on what this king chose not to know.
One writer ties this verse to a change of dynasty in Egypt:
It now seems certain that not long after Joseph died, the rule of the "Hyksos," or "Shepherd kings," came to an end. The native Egyptians rose up, drove them out, and put a man from their own ancient royal line on the throne. Joseph belonged to the same race as the Shepherd kings, so the new rulers detested him. They saw the people of Israel in the same way, and so as a possible danger to Egypt.
The same writer says the king's ignorance was a stance, not a gap in his education:
This may not mean that he did not know Joseph had ever lived. It may mean that he saw him as an intruder and an oppressor, and so ignored him completely.
Egypt owed her full storehouses and her strong throne to Joseph. One writer reads the whole nation's guilt in this single line:
So that land was the ungrateful one, the rebellious one. She had turned away from Joseph, and so from God Himself — from the One who had filled her storehouses with plenty, and her throne with honour and strength. Egypt was the world in miniature: the great deserter of its rightful Lord and kind Benefactor... Joseph's memory had been despised, and all that was left of him was put to work at the brick-kilns.
One writer takes Joseph as a picture of Christ in glory. That makes this verse a description of a heart, not just a reign:
The words that he "did not know Joseph" are deeply significant. Joseph in Egypt was a picture of Christ in His earthly glory, so not knowing him marks a moral state. Pharaoh is in fact the god of this world, and as such he must be opposed to the Lord's people.
Joseph and everyone who knew him were dead. One writer asks what difference that made to God:
"Joseph died, and all his brothers, and all that generation." What then? Could death touch the purposes of the living God? Surely not. He simply waited for the appointed moment, the right time, and then He used the most hostile forces to carry out His purposes.
Israel had settled in the best part of Egypt and could have expected only comfort. One writer says God's word had already marked Egypt out as something else:
Israel had come down under the prestige of Egypt's greatest governor and the warmest royal favour. Settled in the best of the land, in Goshen, they might have looked for nothing but ease and honour... But whatever it looked like, Egypt in Jehovah's eyes meant slavery and affliction; and that is what came, once Joseph's protection was gone. The word of God abides, and cannot fail, whatever the weakness of man, or the pride of unbelief.
At first Egypt suited Israel well. One writer says the slavery that followed came from God's own hand, and served a purpose:
There was a time when Egypt pleased us well enough, as for a time it pleased Israel... They had a flourishing and happy time, a time when they were not slaves, but quite the opposite. And it was God who, as He says, "raised up Pharaoh," and so brought about this state of bondage. God promised Abraham this very furnace of affliction in the vision of Genesis 15... It was the necessary means to bring them out for the inheritance He promised them.
The same pattern runs on today. God's people live in a world that refuses Christ, yet they are not left unfed:
They were no longer the favoured people who received Joseph's generosity, kept and fed under his kind rule. Now they felt the power of a man who was the open enemy of Jehovah and His people. But there is a spiritual application. We are the people of God, and we still live in the place where the claims of Christ are refused... yet our true Joseph keeps us and feeds us from heaven, from His exalted place on God's throne.
- Forgotten. The king chose not to know Joseph. He treated him as an intruder and ignored him completely.
- Ungrateful. Egypt turned from the man who had filled her storehouses, and so turned from God. She is the world in miniature.
- Exposed. Joseph pictures Christ in glory, so not knowing him marks a moral state. It sets the throne of this world against God's people.
- Overruled. Joseph died and his whole generation died, but God's purpose did not. He waited for the right moment and used hostile power to carry out His plan.
- Fulfilled. God promised Abraham this furnace long before, and it was the means of bringing Israel out to the inheritance. His people still live in a world that refuses Christ, and their true Joseph still feeds them from God's throne.
And he said to his people, Behold, the people of the children of Israel are more numerous and stronger than we.
A new king rises in Egypt, Joseph's name means nothing to him, and his first words warn his own people about the Hebrews. Why did a nation that welcomed Israel as guests now see them as a threat?
Egypt had once saved Jacob's family from famine. Under this king it became something else.
A century or two rolled by, and their fortunes changed completely. Egypt had been a place of refuge for them, a kindly shelter in the time of famine and affliction. It now became to them the house of bondage. It became the "smoking furnace" that Abraham had seen when the "horror of great darkness" fell upon him, as recorded in Genesis 15:12.
Egypt owed its plenty to Joseph, and the new king had forgotten him.
That land was the ungrateful one, the rebellious one. She had departed from Joseph, and so from God Himself, from Him who had filled her storehouses with plenty and her throne with honour and strength. So Egypt was the world in miniature — the great deserter from its rightful Lord and gracious Benefactor.
Pharaoh's complaint is really a report on what God had been doing. One writer, tracing these events in a psalm, puts it like this.
Through God's favour they increase greatly, and they become stronger than their enemies. Pharaoh's own words say so (Ex. 1:9). This, no doubt, is how we are to understand the verse that follows: "He turned their heart to hate His people." God has only to show His favour like this, and the tide of opposition rises in full force.
Another writer asks whether such a policy was just, or wise in the long run.
There had never been hostility. The sons of Israel were in no way prisoners of war or captives of any kind. They had given no reason for suspicion of seeking rule over Egypt... Yet the king who did not know Joseph dreaded their growing number and strength. They had served him for a long time... Was this in any way just? And is an unjust policy "wise" in the long run, or defensible in itself?
Pharaoh's plan reads like careful statesmanship. He weighs every factor except one.
Pharaoh could list the possible turns of human affairs, and list them correctly. The people might multiply. War might break out. They might join the enemy and escape out of the land. He could weigh all these circumstances with rare skill. But it never once occurred to him that God might have anything to do with the matter. One thought of God would have overturned his whole line of reasoning. It would have written folly across all his schemes.
The stated reasons are national security. Commentators point to a deeper struggle running underneath them.
Political reasons drove Pharaoh and his princes (Ex. 1:9-10). But there was a deeper reason than that. The enemy of souls was in all this, working behind the scenes to ruin the whole human race for ever, if he could. If Pharaoh had destroyed every male child of Israel, Christ could not have come from the house and line of David. The conflict looked like Egypt's interests against Israel's. It was really between God and the devil. God desired to bless men; the devil sought to ruin them.
Commentators differ on whether Pharaoh had real grounds for his fear. One points to where Israel lived, and to what the policy achieved in the end.
Israel lived on the frontier facing Canaan, and there were many of them. If a fresh war broke out with the old enemies in Canaan, they might open up the very heart of Egypt to them. He had grounds for his fears and for his policy, and he succeeded. His slaves made Egypt magnificent; their misery built his temples. But though Pharaoh did not know it, he did more — he made these Hebrew slaves long for liberty, and cry to their God for rest. So the enemy always defeats himself by his success.
There was also a promise standing over Israel that no Egyptian policy could get around.
In any case the righteous Lord loves righteousness. He is never indifferent to injustice, least of all injustice against the family of Abraham, "the friend of God." No one who is unfair or cruel to Abraham's descendants will prosper. "I will bless those who bless you," the Lord said to Abram, "and curse him who curses you."
- Increase — the numbers that alarmed Pharaoh came from God's favour, not from Israel's ambition.
- Fear — that visible favour was enough by itself to turn a whole nation's heart to hatred.
- Forgetting — a king who no longer remembered Joseph pictures a world that has forgotten the One who fed it.
- Scheming — Pharaoh weighed every possibility with skill but left God out. That one gap made folly of the whole plan.
- Defeat — the oppression built his cities, but it taught his slaves to cry to God for freedom. God had already promised to curse anyone who curses Abraham's line.
Come on, let us deal wisely with them, lest they multiply, and it come to pass that, if war occur, they take side with our enemies and fight against us, and go up out of the land.
A new king in Egypt saw Israel's growth as a threat. His answer was a plan: outthink them before they outnumber us. The verse shows a ruler who can weigh every human factor except one. Commentators ask whether that kind of calculation deserves the name of wisdom at all. (Older translations read "let us deal wisely with them," and the quotes below use that wording.)
Pharaoh's speech is a chain of if-then reasoning. Each link holds on its own terms. What ruins the sum is the one factor he never counted.
In Pharaoh's case, we see that he could list every possible turn of human affairs — the people multiplying, war breaking out, their joining with the enemy, their escape out of the land. He could weigh all these things with unusual shrewdness. But it never once occurred to him that God could have anything at all to do with the matter. Had he only thought of this, it would have upset his whole line of reasoning, and written folly across all his schemes.
God had settled the outcome long before Pharaoh was born.
He did not know that, hundreds of years earlier, before he had ever drawn a breath, God's word and oath — "two unchangeable things" — had made the full and glorious deliverance of that very people certain. And these were the people he was setting out, in his wisdom, to crush... He imagined, in vain, that his own management could stop the growth of a people about whom God had said, "they shall be as the stars of heaven and as the sand that is on the seashore." So his wise dealing was simply madness and folly.
In political terms, the king's worry had real grounds.
What we now know of Egypt's history shows us that on several grounds Pharaoh was wise here in his country's interest. Egypt's armies had only lately conquered the nations of Canaan. A true Egyptian could see the Hebrew only as more or less connected — by custom at least — with the peoples of Canaan. Israel lived on the border facing Canaan, and they were many. If war with the old Canaanite enemies broke out again, they could open up the very heart of Egypt to the enemy, for they lived inside the line of border forts.
Yet fear does not make a policy just. One writer weighs how Israel had actually behaved in Egypt, and ends with a question.
In this case it broke the friendly agreement that had settled Israel and his sons in Goshen. There had never been hostility. They had given no reason to suspect them of seeking to rule Egypt. They had never given up the hope of returning to Canaan as their promised land. The burial of Jacob announced this loudly; the unburied coffin of Joseph, still more loudly... Was this just in any degree? And is an unjust policy "wise" in the long run, or justifiable in itself?
Behind Pharaoh's plan, one writer sees another mind at work.
Satan knows what we tend to forget: the world must hate the children of God, and they, if faithful, must stand against the world. So, in the person of Pharaoh, he seems to plan ahead for the chance of war, and to prevent their deliverance.
The deeper aim reached past Israel altogether.
Political reasons drove Pharaoh and his princes. But there was a deeper reason than that. The enemy of souls was surely in all this, working behind the scenes to ruin the whole human race for ever, if he could. If every male child of Israel had died, Christ could not have been born of the house and family line of David. So the conflict looked like Egyptian interests against Israel's, but it was really between God and the devil.
The forced labour meant to weaken Israel became their training.
The wisdom of the world overreaches and defeats itself. It was bad policy for the Egyptians to live in idleness and luxury, and to dump their hard, skilled labour on their servants as a crushing burden. It was a good apprenticeship for those who were to be mighty as well as populous, and to possess the gate of their enemies.
The policy worked — and its success gave Israel something Pharaoh never intended.
But, though Pharaoh did not know it, he did more — he made these Hebrew slaves long for freedom, and cry to their God for rest. So the enemy always defeats himself by his success.
- Shrewd — Pharaoh weighed every human factor with real skill. He left out only God, and that one gap wrote folly across the whole plan.
- Grounded — his fear was not imaginary. Israel was large, and lived on the border facing Canaan, which Egypt had just conquered.
- Unjust — Israel had given no cause for suspicion. So can an unjust policy ever be called wise?
- Deeper — behind the throne stood an enemy. He aimed past Israel at the family line that would bring Christ.
- Backfired — the hard labour trained a future army, and made slaves cry to God. The enemy defeats himself by his own success.
And they set over them service-masters to oppress them with their burdens. And they built store-cities for Pharaoh, Pithom and Rameses.
Pharaoh's fear of a growing people turns into state policy. He sets taskmasters over Israel and puts the nation to work building two cities for himself.
Pharaoh's cruelty had a strategy behind it.
His plan was to reduce all Israelites to the status of slaves. He put them under slave-drivers to keep them under constant pressure of work, so they would have no chance to organise and no strength to resist. They were forced to build two store cities, which held supplies for Pharaoh's troops. In this way they went on forging the chains of their own slavery.
One of the two cities has left solid traces in the ground.
Excavation has uncovered enough of the stronghold Pithom, long buried in the sand, to tell us today that Israel worked in Egypt just as the Bible says. The monuments and papyri show that in it we have "Pi-tom," that is, "the town of the sun-god Tom." In these times of doubt about Bible history, God lets one discovery follow another, until bricks and stones lift up their voices and declare that His Word is true.
Israel's own work built Israel's prison. One writer takes that straight into ordinary life.
They built "treasure cities" — storehouse cities, cities of war supplies. Pharaoh sets to work to keep the people down and in slavery, and for this he uses their own strength against them. He makes them labour to rivet their own chains, for these cities stood in Goshen, the land given to Israel themselves. And that is what happens everywhere the world over. Take the drunkard. Every cup he takes makes him more and more a slave to it, though he knows what a hard and bitter service it is. If it is money that a man covets, every dollar he puts into his treasury only makes his heart more set upon it.
One writer looks behind Pharaoh to the power he stands for, and to the motive behind the burdens.
Pharaoh in fact is the god of this world, and as such he must stand against the Lord's people. So we read at once of his crafty schemes and malicious plans. Their aim was to destroy Israel's prosperity and reduce the people to helpless and hopeless slavery. And what was his motive? "Lest they multiply, and, if war breaks out, they join our enemies and fight against us and escape from the land." Satan knows what we tend to forget: the world must hate the children of God.
Pharaoh called his plan wise. He had left one factor out of the sum.
He did not know that hundreds of years earlier, before he had ever drawn a breath, God's word and oath — "two unchangeable things" — had surely secured the full and glorious deliverance of this very people. These were the people he was now going, in his wisdom, to crush. He imagined in vain that his own management could stop the increase of a people about whom God had said, "they shall be as the stars of heaven, and as the sand on the seashore." So his wise dealing was nothing but madness and folly.
The pressure did the opposite of what Pharaoh intended.
This did not, however, hinder what God had purposed. Verse 12 records that "the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew." So here was an illustration and confirmation of the word spoken by the Psalmist: "You have given me relief when I was in distress" (Ps. 4:1). The abundant increase God gave cancelled out every effort Pharaoh made to hold them down.
The older translation he used reads "You have enlarged me when I was in distress" — which is why he ties the verse to a people God enlarged.
The same writer finds a second purpose in the bondage, on God's side.
God makes the children of Israel feel the weight of their burdens, and taste the bitterness of their slavery, to awaken in them a desire for deliverance before He begins to act for them. A sinner can be unaware of how low he has sunk, and contented, if not happy, in being far from God. But if he is to be saved, he must pass through the experience pictured by this account of the Israelites. Until then, he never knows his real state, or desires deliverance.
- Fear — Pharaoh's alarm at a growing people became a labour policy. It was meant to wear Israel down so they could neither organise nor resist.
- Chains — their own strength built Pharaoh's cities. Sin still works that way: every indulgence tightens the grip.
- Stones — Pithom has been dug out of the sand, and its own monuments name it; the ground speaks up for the record.
- Blindness — the king planned without God. His wisdom was folly against a promise sworn centuries before his birth.
- Increase — the harder the affliction pressed, the more the people multiplied. God used the yoke both to enlarge them and to make them long for rescue.
But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and spread; and they were distressed because of the children of Israel.
In Exodus 1 a king fears a growing people and sets taskmasters over them to break them. The pressure only made them grow, and their oppressors came to dread them.
Here one weak man sets himself against the eternal God.
What a sad mistake it is for a weak mortal to set himself up against the eternal God! Pharaoh might as well have tried to hold back the ocean's tide with his small hand. He could not stop the increase of a people who were the subjects of God's everlasting purpose. So although they "set taskmasters over them to afflict them with heavy burdens," still "the more they were oppressed, the more they multiplied and the more they spread abroad." It must always be this way. "He who sits in the heavens shall laugh; the Lord shall have them in derision" (Ps. 2:4).
What looks like an accident of history had been announced to Abraham centuries earlier, which changes how the reader should hear the word "afflicted".
God foretold the condition of the children of Israel in Exodus 1 many years before. He said to Abraham: "Know for certain that your offspring will be sojourners in a land that is not theirs and will be servants there, and they will be afflicted for four hundred years. But I will bring judgment on the nation that they serve, and afterward they shall come out with great possessions" (Gen. 15:13-14)… God harnesses even the wrath of man to the wheels of His own decrees. He did the same when Christ was "delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God" to men who crucified and killed Him (Acts 2:23).
The verse describes a mechanism, not a coincidence: the squeezing itself is the space in which they expand.
This did not stop what God had purposed… Here was an illustration and confirmation of the word spoken by the Psalmist, "You have given me relief when I was in distress" (Ps. 4:1). The abundant increase that God gave completely cancelled out Pharaoh's efforts to suppress them.
An older translation of Psalm 4:1 reads "You have enlarged me when I was in distress." That word "enlarged" is what ties the verse to Israel's increase.
The affliction did more than raise the numbers.
In that furnace of affliction they were welded together as a nation. They entered Egypt a feeble and divided family; they left it a united and powerful nation.
The verse ends with the Egyptians in dread of Israel.
Meanwhile man's will had its way, as Israel built store-cities for Pharaoh, Pithom and Raamses. But God's providence acted also. The more the Egyptians afflicted the Israelites, the more these multiplied and spread. So fear and horror filled their masters, and they added hardship to their bondage… But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil. He cuts off the memory of them from the earth, even in a day when right and wrong are turned upside down. His eyes are on the righteous, and His ears are open to their cry.
Commentators see more than politics behind Pharaoh's hatred.
Pharaoh is in fact the god of this world, and so he must stand against the Lord's people. We read at once of his cunning schemes and malicious plans. He means to destroy their prosperity and reduce them to helpless and hopeless bondage… Satan knows what we easily forget. The world must hate the children of God, and they, if faithful, must stand against the world.
The burden also worked on the people themselves.
The condition of the Israelites is a striking picture of the sinner — of the sinner who has been made to feel the iron yoke of his slavery to sin and Satan… God makes the children of Israel feel the weight of their burdens. He lets them taste the bitterness of their vile servitude. He does it to awaken in them a desire for deliverance, before He begins to act on their behalf.
What happened once by the Nile is treated as a standing principle for God's people.
Egypt was the place where Jacob suddenly grew into a nation… It is the rule in all the ages that have been, for all God's people… Jacob needed humbling, but he grew by it.
The same pattern runs through Israel's later history.
Here we may read the history of Israel among the nations… Their miraculous increase always comes when oppression and persecution fall on them. When oppression comes, God's time for deliverance draws near.
- Purpose — Israel multiplied because they were "the subjects of God's everlasting purpose." Pharaoh's policy was as useless as holding back the tide by hand.
- Promise — God told Abraham in Genesis 15 what would happen. Even man's wrath serves God's decrees.
- Pressure — God let them feel the yoke to awaken a desire for deliverance, and the increase He gave cancelled Pharaoh's plan out.
- Product — A feeble, divided family entered Egypt. A united, powerful nation came out of the furnace.
- Pattern — Commentators call this the rule for all God's people in every age. When oppression is heaviest, deliverance is nearest.
And the Egyptians made the children of Israel serve with harshness;
Israel came into Egypt as honoured guests and settled in the best of the land. This verse marks the moment their welcome turned into slavery. Two questions press on us. Why did God allow His own people to be crushed? And what does the picture teach?
The change was total. This was not one ruler's whim. The whole nation turned on Israel, and what they suffered was no ordinary work.
Verse 13 shows that it was not only a new king who watched Israel's growing strength with fear and jealousy. "The Egyptians ruthlessly made the people of Israel work as slaves," and made their lives bitter with hard labour, in town and country. This was not just service. It was harsh slavery — as complete a reversal of the place they first held in Goshen as could be.
Pharaoh had a reason. He feared a growing people who might one day leave. Commentators see in his policy the world's lasting quarrel with God's people.
Pharaoh is in fact the god of this world, and so he must be against the Lord's people. So we read at once of his crafty schemes and spiteful plans to destroy their prosperity, and to reduce them to helpless and hopeless slavery. And what was his motive? He feared that they would multiply, and that if war broke out they would join his enemies, fight against him, and leave the land. Satan knows what we easily forget: the world must hate the children of God.
Egypt had not always been bitter. That is why, one writer argues, the slavery was needed. And he says God Himself brought it about.
There was a time when Egypt pleased us well enough, as for a time it pleased Israel. We know how in the wilderness they not only longed after the good things of Egypt, but went after its gods too. They copied the worship of Egypt when they made the golden calf. They had a flourishing and happy time, a time when they were not slaves, but the very opposite. And it was God who, as He says, "raised up Pharaoh," and so brought about this slavery. God promised Abraham this very furnace of affliction in the vision of Genesis 15... It was the necessary means to bring them out for the inheritance He promised them.
Another writer points to the danger God was guarding them from.
Their oppression and sorrow in Egypt was also permitted for their own good. The idolatry of Egypt began to corrupt the chosen people.
Nothing in their condition qualified them for what God was about to say over them. He told Pharaoh, not Israel, that this despised workforce was His son, His firstborn.
He was to hear that this nation of slaves, whom he had trampled on, was the son, the firstborn of the Lord of Hosts... Who could have supposed that God would pass by the ruling, cultured race of the day, take up the cause of a nation of slaves, and bind them so closely to Himself? ... What had they done to deserve it? Nothing. What state were they in when He said it? Hopeless and utter misery.
Moses later had to make his own choice about these same slaves.
They were poor whip-driven slaves, worked without mercy, but they were THE PEOPLE OF GOD. That settled it for Moses.
One writer takes the Egyptian taskmaster as a picture of sin. Freedom from that master comes by one road only.
The flesh will always serve the law of sin. Sin is a cruel taskmaster, like the Egyptians who drove Israel without mercy. The only way of freedom from this great slave owner is death. A man owns a slave and holds him in hard bondage, but there comes a day when that slave no longer answers the master's call. He is dead, and there ends the domination of the master. "But," you may say, "I am not dead. I have not received the wages that sin pays." That is true. But it is also true that Jesus, in perfect love, received those wages for you.
- Ruthless — not ordinary work but harsh slavery, in town and field. It was the complete reverse of the place Israel first held in Goshen.
- Fear — Pharaoh crushed them so they would never leave. Commentators see in him the world's fixed hostility to the people of God.
- Furnace — God had promised Abraham this affliction. He used it to loosen Egypt's hold on a people who had grown comfortable there, and to guard them from Egypt's idols.
- Firstborn — they were still slaves and had earned nothing. Yet God called this nation His son, and their misery was no barrier to His claim.
- Freedom — sin is a taskmaster like Egypt. The slave goes free only through death, and Christ took that death in his place.
and they embittered their life with hard labour in clay and bricks, and in all manner of labour in the field all their labour with which they made them serve was with harshness.
Exodus opens with the family of Israel forced into slavery, and this verse shows what that slavery looked like day after day. Two questions press: why did God let His people sink so low, and what do the mortar and bricks teach us now?
One writer sets Egypt's cruelty beside what God is doing about it.
The Egyptians made the people of Israel serve harshly. … But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil, to wipe out all memory of them from the earth, even in a day when the moral foundations have collapsed. His eyes are on the righteous, and His ears are open to their cry. But the furnace grew hotter still, and God's intervention took a clearer and stronger form.
The verse names three kinds of labour. One writer sees each one serving a different Egyptian interest.
Take the three areas of labour in verse 14. "Mortar" would speak of Egypt forcing them to work to help its unity, since mortar is what unites. The "brick" speaks of Egypt's progress, and "all manner of service" of Egypt's prosperity. The world is determined to have believers bow to its authority for the sake of its own selfish ends.
Another writer traces bricks back to their first appearance in Scripture.
Scripture first mentions bricks at Babel, Gen. 11:3. The next mention is here in Egypt, Ex. 1:14. Bricks speak of human material, man's imitation of stone which is divine material. … In Babel it is "a name"; in Egypt it is "treasure cities."
The bondage did not begin the moment Israel arrived. It came later, and one writer ties it to a promise God made to Abraham.
There was a time when Egypt pleased us well enough, just as it pleased Israel for a time. … They had a flourishing and happy time, when they were not slaves at all, but quite the opposite. And it was God who, as He says, "raised up Pharaoh," and so brought about this slavery. God promised Abraham this very furnace of affliction in the vision of Gen. 15. … It was the necessary means to bring them out for the inheritance He promised them. It is His way to make them the people He wants them to be.
Their condition could hardly be lower. That is what makes God's tie to them so surprising.
Who could have supposed that He would pass by the ruling, highly cultured race of the day? Yet He took up the cause of a nation of slaves, and tied Himself closely to them. … What state were they in when God announced this? They were in hopeless, crushing misery (Exodus 1:13-14; 2:23). And He announced it not to them, to strengthen them for the fight, but to their slave-drivers, the Egyptians, to make them set the people free.
That is what Moses later saw when he looked at the brickfields and made his choice.
They were unwanted foreigners, treated with the utmost rigour as slaves. Their lives were made bitter by reason of their hard bondage as they laboured at brick-making and worked in the fields under the scorching sun (Exodus 1:13-14). But, in spite of their low estate and hard bondage, these slaves were the people of God.
One writer sees our own former position in theirs.
They were a set of slaves — so were we; they were in bondage to a hard taskmaster — so were you and I by nature. Satan, the god and prince of this world, keeps every unredeemed, unconverted sinner in his grip. … They were slaves in Egypt, which pictures the world. They were under the power of this heartless king, held in the bitterest slavery. No wonder their souls became distressed — they were miserable.
God did not mean to leave them there.
He was not going to leave His people in the brick-kilns of Egypt, under the lash of Pharaoh's slave-drivers. They were His people, and He would act toward them in a manner worthy of Himself. … He could use Egypt as a school and Pharaoh as a teacher, and He did. But when the needed work was done, He set aside both the school and the teacher. He brought His people out with a strong hand and an outstretched arm.
- Bitter — Egypt worked Israel harshly in clay, brick and field, and God's face is set against those who do such evil.
- Bricks — mortar, brick and field labour picture Egypt's unity, progress and prosperity. Bricks are human material, first used at Babel, then here.
- Furnace — the slavery came only after happier years. It answers the furnace of affliction God promised Abraham, His means of bringing them out to their inheritance.
- Ours — Egypt pictures the world, and Pharaoh the power that grips the unconverted. The misery of the brickfields is the misery of a life not yet delivered.
- Ended — the slaves in the mud were still God's people. God used Egypt only as a school, and set school and teacher aside when the work was done.