And Jehovah said to Moses, Write this [for] a memorial in the book, and rehearse [it] in the ears of Joshua, that I will utterly blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under the heavens.
Israel had just beaten back the Amalekites at Rephidim. God's first answer to the victory was not a monument but a command to write. He tells Moses to write the event in a book and read it aloud to Joshua. To it He attaches a sentence He will carry out Himself: Amalek's memory will be wiped out completely.
This is where the written word of God begins.
The first mention of writing in the Bible is when "the Lord said to Moses, write this as a memorial in a book" (Ex. 17:14). That small beginning is God putting His thoughts in writing for man. From it grows the full development we have in the Bible, where God makes known all His counsels and glories.
Amalek's family line shapes what he stands for.
Amalek came from Esau, the man of bodily appetite, who sold his birthright for a meal. So he makes a fitting picture of the flesh.
Commentators differ on how far that picture reaches. One writer says that calling Amalek "the flesh" stops short of the full meaning. Amalek came out to block a whole nation's march and wipe it off the earth.
What, then, does Amalek stand for? Many say he stands for the flesh, but that is only part of the truth… The point to see here is that Amalek sets himself in open opposition to the people of God. He seeks to hinder their progress, and even to destroy them from off the face of the earth. So it is the power of Satan — perhaps acting through the flesh — that challenges the forward march of the children of Israel.
Amalek attacked by stealth. The sentence God passes on such an enemy is not correction but removal.
Amalek was a very cunning foe, as we discover when we read Deuteronomy 25:18. In our experience the flesh acts in just this way. It attacks us at what we may call our weak points — though these are often the points we imagine to be our strong ones! God then passed the sentence of death on Amalek in its most extreme form, as we see in verse 14. In the same way God has "condemned sin in the flesh" in the death of Christ.
What God writes down for His people looks in two directions.
This memorial combined two things: the record of their rescue from Amalek, and the pledge of his final overthrow. Every display of the Lord's power on behalf of His people has this double character. If He steps in and defends them against their enemies' attacks, that same act assures them of His continual protection and care. So every time He comes between them and their foes, it should be repeated in their ears and written on their hearts — a memorial of the past, and a guarantee of His unchanging defence.
The promise to blot out Amalek is not a promise that the fighting stops soon.
I dare say many of us have thought, when we have seen the necessity of dependence on the Lord, that one good battle with Satan, and all will be over; but no such thing. We have security and the certainty of victory. But we have no promise that conflict will stop while we are in the wilderness… God told Israel He would utterly blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven; yet still the Lord will have war with Amalek from generation to generation. Until Christ comes, until Satan is bound, until we have the full result of victory, we must count on conflict. Not slavery to Pharaoh, but war with Amalek. Our comfort is this: it is the Lord who makes war, though He does it through Israel, and so Israel has to fight.
Centuries later God acted on this word.
God had not forgotten what Amalek did to Israel, as told in Exodus 17:8-16. Now the time had come to carry out divine vengeance. God entrusted Saul with the duty of fulfilling the purpose He had announced long before (Ex. 17:14). Generations had come and gone since the Lord swore that He would utterly blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Had He forgotten His oath? No. The lapse of time made no change in His mind.
- Written. God's command to Moses is the Bible's first act of writing. Everything He later made known in Scripture grows from it.
- Written against an enemy. Amalek came from Esau, who sold his birthright for a meal. He pictures the flesh — and some see behind him the power of Satan opposing God's people.
- Written as a death sentence. God's verdict on Amalek was removal, not reform, matching how He "condemned sin in the flesh" at the cross.
- Written as a pledge. The record holds both a past rescue and a guarantee of the final overthrow still to come.
- Written for the fight ahead. Victory is certain, but the conflict continues. God's oath waited generations for Saul to act, and time never weakened it.
And Moses built an altar, and called the name of it Jehovah-nissi.
The first thing Moses does after Israel's fight with Amalek is not celebrate but build. The battle at Rephidim ends with an altar, and the altar is given a name.
Where the sword had just been swinging, the hands now go up in worship. One writer notes what happens when that step is skipped:
Victory is turned to worship in the scene before us. "And Moses built an altar and called the name of it, The LORD Is My Banner." When victory does not lead to worship, we and God part company as soon as we have won. How sad to see victory often lead to mere joy, instead of leading to greater dependence on God and greater delight in Him!
Amalek had just been defeated, and the memorial could easily have been named after the defeat or the man who fought it. It is named after neither.
The place was called "Jehovah-nissi" meaning "the Lord my banner." Attention is focused, not on the enemy, but on the One who overcomes the enemy.
Armies of that world carried standards marked with the emblems of their gods. Israel's rallying point was a place of sacrifice instead, and the words Moses spoke over it reached far past that day's fighting.
On the site of the victory Moses built an altar to the LORD, and called it Jehovah-nissi, the LORD my banner. Not such a banner, with emblems of their gods, as the Egyptian armies rallied around, but an altar of burnt sacrifice, the tribute of worship to the unchangeable I AM. The words Moses spoke with it were prophetic. They point to the final victory of the people of God, for the mighty hand of the Intercessor rests on God's throne. At the close of this world's day, victory will remain with the soldiers of God.
A banner is more than decoration. Soldiers rally to it, and men die holding it up — which is why the one word written on this one matters so much.
On Israel's banner is inscribed the august name of JEHOVAH, and it requires no addition of party name, symbol or shibboleth. It is great enough for us all to fight under — so be it that we fight not one another, but Amalek.
God had told Moses to write the victory in a book; Moses added an altar. Both look backward and forward at once, and the second half of that habit is where most people fall short.
Two things were combined in this memorial — the record of their deliverance from Amalek, and the pledge of his final overthrow… In the same confidence Moses built an altar. By it he gratefully owned the divine hand, as well as expressed that the praise of the victory belonged to the Lord. It is precisely here that so many fail. The Lord grants help and deliverance, but they forget to build their altars. Their troubles drive them into the Lord's presence, but when the pressure lifts they too often forget to praise Him.
Amalek's power was broken that day, yet the words attached to the altar promise conflict without a stopping point. That combination — certain victory, unending battle — is deliberate.
I dare say many of us have thought, when we have seen the necessity of dependence on the Lord, that one good battle with Satan, and all will be over; but no such thing, we have security and the certainty of victory, but no promise of any pause in the conflict while in the wilderness… but with the comfort of knowing that it is the LORD who makes war, though it is through Israel, and Israel therefore has to fight. It is the Lord's battle against Satan — there is our comfort. But still a battle which we have to carry on; so we are kept in an unceasing state of dependence.
The banner flew over an army that had won. One writer draws a line from that scene to the believer's own confidence.
All was victory. The LORD's banner floated over the winning army, carrying the sweet, heart-strengthening inscription "Jehovah-nissi" (the Lord my banner). Our assurance of victory should be as complete as our sense of forgiveness, since both rest on the same great fact: Jesus died and rose again… He died for us, and now He lives in us. The former gives us peace, the latter gives us power.
- Banner given. God won the battle. Moses answered with an altar and God's name on it, so the credit went straight to God.
- Banner named. "The LORD my banner" turns the eye away from the defeated enemy and onto the One who defeated him.
- Banner remembered. The altar records a past rescue and guarantees a future one. The warning is that we forget to build ours once the pressure lifts.
- Banner still flying. God promises Amalek's end — and war in every generation. The fight is the Lord's; we do the fighting and stay dependent.
- Banner enough. It carries one name and no party label. It is large enough for all God's people to fight under, as long as they fight Amalek and not each other.
And he said, For the hand is on the throne of Jah; Jehovah will have war with Amalek from generation to generation!
The battle with Amalek is won. But Moses ends the day with an altar and an oath about a war that will outlast every generation that fights it. Two questions follow. Whose hand is on the throne? And why does God swear to wipe this enemy out, yet also swear to fight him age after age?
The ESV reads, "A hand upon the throne of the LORD!" Older versions say "the throne of Jah" — the same name in an older form. The Hebrew is packed tight, and one commentator gives its literal wording:
Is this not literally, "Because a hand is on the throne of Jah, war is from Jehovah with Amalek from generation to generation"? The King James Version gives the sense.
Commentators differ on whose hand this is. One reading takes it as Moses' hand, lifted in prayer on the hill while Israel fought below:
While Israel fought Amalek below, Moses was on the mountain with his hands lifted up, interceding with God. He knew very well that the outcome of the battle did not depend on the power of Israel, but on the power of God. That is why he built his altar and called it Jehovah-Nissi. He said, "For the hand is on the throne of Jah." It was the hand of intercession that drew from the throne of God the power that overcame Amalek. Does this not remind us of the present ministry of Christ on high, interceding for His saints?
The other reading takes the hand as Amalek's, raised against God Himself:
It is recorded of Amalek that he put his hand on the throne of Jah. I do not think for a moment that he could stretch his hand up to God. He cannot touch anything there. But as a picture, he can put his hand on the rights of God in our hearts.
Amalek is often read as a picture of the flesh — our sinful nature. One writer looks past that to the enemy behind it:
It is often stated that it is the flesh; but this is only part of the truth. But the point to see here is this. Amalek sets himself in open opposition to the people of God. He seeks to block their progress, and even to wipe them off the face of the earth. So it is the power of Satan that challenges the forward march of the children of Israel — working through the flesh, it may be.
The oath also says how long this will last. It kills the idea that one big fight settles everything:
I dare say many of us have thought this, once we saw how much we need to depend on the Lord: one good battle with Satan, and it will all be over. But there is no such thing. We have security and the certainty of victory. But we have no promise that the fighting will stop while we are in the wilderness... Until Christ comes and Satan is bound, and we have the full result of victory, we must count on conflict — not on slavery to Pharaoh, but on war with Amalek. Our comfort is knowing that it is Jehovah who makes war. He makes it through Israel, so Israel has to fight.
Owning that war changes the one who fights:
We need to understand that the interests of Christ are our own — that His battles are our battles; and the more we grasp this, the stronger and happier we are.
Moses does not name the win. He names an altar after God, and that choice is itself a test:
Victory is turned to worship in the scene before us. "And Moses built an altar, and called the name of it Jehovah-nissi — the Lord is my banner." When victory does not lead to worship, we and God part company as soon as the victory is won. How sad when victory only makes us glad, instead of making us lean on God more and delight in Him more.
"From generation to generation" cuts both ways: the war is long, and so is God's memory. Generations later the same oath came due through Saul:
God had not forgotten what Amalek did to Israel... Generations had come and gone since the Lord swore His oath. He had said He would blot out every memory of Amalek from under heaven. Had He forgotten His oath? No. The passing of time made no change in His mind, and when the hour arrived, Saul was commissioned to carry it out. But in that he failed, sparing Agag.
- Provocation. Amalek's hand reaches for what belongs to God — not heaven itself, but God's rights in the hearts of His people.
- Oath. God answers with a sworn war of His own. Time does not soften it: the oath still stood when Saul's hour came, and Saul failed to keep it.
- Banner. The hand lifted toward the throne draws down the power that wins. So Moses names an altar, not a victory, and turns the win into worship.
- Warfare. Victory is certain, but there is no ceasefire in the wilderness. The Lord makes the war, and He makes it through those who fight.
- End. The war runs from generation to generation. It ends when Christ comes and the enemy is blotted out. That time is not yet.