← Contents Exodus 18:1–27

Exodus 18:1–27

1NOW JETHRO, THE priest of Midian and father-in-law of Moses, heard of everything God had done for Moses and for his people Israel, and how the LORD had brought Israel out of Egypt.

2After Moses had sent away his wife Zipporah, his father-in-law Jethro received her 3and her two sons. One son was named Gershom, for Moses said, “I have become an alien in a foreign land”; 4and the other was named Eliezer, for he said, “My father’s God was my helper; he saved me from the sword of Pharaoh.”

5Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law, together with Moses’ sons and wife, came to him in the desert, where he was camped near the mountain of God. 6Jethro had sent word to him, “I, your father-in-law Jethro, am coming to you with your wife and her two sons.”

7So Moses went out to meet his father-in-law and bowed down and kissed him. They greeted each other and then went into the tent. 8Moses told his father-in-law about everything the LORD had done to Pharaoh and the Egyptians for Israel’s sake and about all the hardships they had met along the way and how the LORD had saved them.

9Jethro was delighted to hear about all the good things the LORD had done for Israel in rescuing them from the hand of the Egyptians. 10He said, “Praise be to the LORD, who rescued you from the hand of the Egyptians and of Pharaoh, and who rescued the people from the hand of the Egyptians. 11Now I know that the LORD is greater than all other gods, for he did this to those who had treated Israel arrogantly.” 12Then Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law, brought a burnt offering and other sacrifices to God, and Aaron came with all the elders of Israel to eat bread with Moses’ father-in-law in the presence of God.

13The next day Moses took his seat to serve as judge for the people, and they stood around him from morning till evening. 14When his father-in-law saw all that Moses was doing for the people, he said, “What is this you are doing for the people? Why do you alone sit as judge, while all these people stand around you from morning till evening?”

15Moses answered him, “Because the people come to me to seek God’s will. 16Whenever they have a dispute, it is brought to me, and I decide between the parties and inform them of God’s decrees and laws.”

17Moses’ father-in-law replied, “What you are doing is not good. 18You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone. 19Listen now to me and I will give you some advice, and may God be with you. You must be the people’s representative before God and bring their disputes to him. 20Teach them the decrees and laws, and show them the way to live and the duties they are to perform. 21But select capable men from all the people—men who fear God, trustworthy men who hate dishonest gain—and appoint them as officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens. 22Have them serve as judges for the people at all times, but have them bring every difficult case to you; the simple cases they can decide themselves. That will make your load lighter, because they will share it with you. 23If you do this and God so commands, you will be able to stand the strain, and all these people will go home satisfied.”

24Moses listened to his father-in-law and did everything he said. 25He chose capable men from all Israel and made them leaders of the people, officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens. 26They served as judges for the people at all times. The difficult cases they brought to Moses, but the simple ones they decided themselves.

27Then Moses sent his father-in-law on his way, and Jethro returned to his own country.

Original Meaning

Jethro’s Acknowledgment of the God of Moses (18:1–12)

THE WORD OF Yahweh’s victory over Egypt has spread so as to reach Jethro’s ears. Unlike the nations of 15:14–16 who tremble at such news, Jethro is attracted to it, and so he comes to Moses. How does this news reach him? This information is not given. Perhaps Zipporah, Moses’ wife, has told him. If so, this also poses a handy solution to another dilemma, noted earlier. According to 4:20, Moses took his family with him to Egypt after leaving Midian. Yet here in 18:2, Zipporah returns after having been “sent away.”

When was she sent away? There is no clear answer to this question, and it seems best to admit we do not know because the narrative does not tell us—a phenomenon any reader of Exodus and the Old Testament as a whole must get used to. Perhaps Moses sent them away before the plagues so as to protect his family from Pharaoh’s wrath.3 Or conversely, as Calvin argues, she may have been sent away after the Israelites have been delivered from Egypt, since Moses would certainly have had his own family present to witness God’s mighty act.4 Or again, perhaps after the Amalekite battle, Moses sent Zipporah to relay the news to her father. According to this scenario, she took her children too, and we can presume that others may have gone with her. But all in all, we have to admit the highly conjectural nature of all such solutions.

Rather than focus on how Zipporah came to be sent away, I prefer to look at verses 2–4 as a whole. These verses are much more than simply a family reunion in the desert, as some commentators have argued. Rather, they form a concrete reminder to the readers of where Moses and the Israelites have been. This is why the names of the sons are mentioned. We meet again Gershom, who is a reminder not only that Moses was a foreigner in Midian (see 2:22), but that the Israelites experienced a similar alienation in Egypt. And here for the first and only time we meet Eliezer,5 meaning “my God is helper.” He is a reminder of deliverance, not only for Moses but for Israel. True, Moses says he named him thus because “he [God] saved me from the sword of Pharaoh” (18:4), but the application of this significance of this name to Israel as a whole is too obvious to miss.6 This is why the writer mentions the second son’s name while leaving, for example, the name of the Pharaoh of the Exodus a total mystery.

Verse 5 raises an interesting problem. How can the Israelites be “near the mountain of God” when they do not arrive until 19:1–2? In fact, the Hebrew is even more problematic. It does not say near the mountain but simply says “the mountain of God,” leaving it to the reader to supply the appropriate preposition. Some have argued that chapter 18 is displaced and that the actions here occur after the arrival at Sinai. The reason the story is placed here is to provide a fitting contrast between the Midianites here and the Amalekites of 17:8–16 (cf. above). I concur that this contrast between the Amalekites and the Midianites exists, but too much is made of the reference to the mountain of God in verse 5. After all, the story of the water from the rock at Rephidim (see comments on 17:1–7) has indicated that the Israelites are already near Horeb.

Another issue linked with the displacement theory is provided by Numbers 11:16–17 and Deuteronomy 1:6–18. There, elders are chosen to ease Moses’ burden after the departure from Sinai. I think it best, however, not to feel a pressing need to harmonize these accounts. Perhaps they are relating two separate instances of Moses’ dividing the labor (note that Jethro is not mentioned in either Num. 11 or Deut. 1). Of course, this raises the question of why such a thing would have occurred twice, but this is beyond our scope here. The reference to “the mountain of God” in Exodus 18:5 both describes the Israelites’ relative location and foreshadows what is now about to command our full attention: the revelation at Sinai of God’s law and the tabernacle.

The meeting between Moses and Jethro in verses 7–8 should jar our memory a bit. Moses here experiences a second reunion with a family member in the desert (cf. the reunion with Aaron in 4:27–28). Moses kisses his father-in-law, just as earlier he kissed Aaron. There is a fine literary (chiastic) symmetry here. As Moses had earlier met the Lord at Mount Horeb and then left, meeting Aaron in the desert, here he meets another relative, which is then followed by the climactic encounter with God on the mountain. Also, 4:28 parallels somewhat 18:8–9: In both places, Moses recounts “everything” God has done or said.

Upon hearing the news of God’s mighty acts in Egypt, Jethro praises God. What is happening here? Is he a convert to “Yahwism”? Perhaps so, but at the very least we can say that he has had a shift in thinking based on what God has done for Israel, ironically a realization that Israel itself is often slow to learn. Jethro’s confession “now I know” (v. 11) is standard Exodus language (see 6:7; 7:5; 8:10; 9:29). Although neither the Egyptians nor the Amalekites get it, Jethro, the Midianite, has learned the lesson of the Exodus: “The LORD is greater than all other gods.”

This is, I suggest, the central theological point of this chapter, and it gives us a good hint of why this story should be included in Israel’s saga at all. Midian is the one nation that gives a proper response to God’s deliverance of his own people. God’s dealings with Pharaoh were so that “my name might be proclaimed in all the earth” (9:16). The Hebrew word for “proclaim” is sipper, which is used also in 18:8 (translated “told” in the NIV). But it is Jethro, not Pharaoh or the Amalekites, who gives the proper response: praise.

The reference to “a burnt offering and other sacrifices” (v. 12) should not be passed over too quickly. This is the first “sacrifice in the desert” to which Moses referred in his earlier audiences with Pharaoh (3:18; 5:3; 8:27). Exodus 10:25 is especially relevant, since there burnt offerings and sacrifices are mentioned together: “You must allow us to have sacrifices and burnt offerings to present to the LORD our God.” This is what begins to happen in 18:12. Of course, this is not the last sacrifice. In 20:24 and throughout the remainder of the book, we have many references to sacrifices. Moreover, 18:12 should not be thought of as the fulfillment of 10:25, but perhaps as a first installment on the importance placed on sacrifice in subsequent chapters.

We should also note that this sacrifice presumably takes place in “the tent” (v. 7; likely Moses’ tent), and that a show of hospitality is to be expected. Yet some have remarked that this may be a portable sanctuary of some sort.7 In fact, the ambiguity of the phrase “the tent” may be purposeful so as to suggest either option. In any case, that a sacrifice occurs is significant. It is clearly another forward look to the supreme cultic site, the tabernacle of chapters 25–40.

Note also the meal that Jethro, Moses, Aaron, and the elders have “in the presence of God” (v. 12). One unusual element is the bread (Heb. leḥem, the common word for bread). Where does this bread came from? A few short chapters earlier, it seemed necessary for God to provide manna from heaven or else the Israelites would starve (16:3). Is manna (their main food during the desert years; cf. Josh. 5:11–12) meant here?8 If so, one would think it would be made clear. Perhaps Jethro has brought the bread with him, or at least the ingredients to bake bread. Or are we to assume that the Israelites themselves have the ingredients handy to bake bread? If so, their earlier complaint makes no sense. This element of the story is difficult to explain.

Beyond the matter of bread, the meal has a number of theological implications for how we understand this stage of the story. Note that this is not the first meal referred to in Exodus. The most recent meal is the Passover, which takes place on the eve of Israel’s deliverance. In both cases, a meal precedes a climactic redemptive event. More important, this is not the first meal Moses and Jethro have together, for in 2:20 they also eat leḥem. This first meal, from the point of view of the flow of the narrative, occurred just before Moses’ first encounter with God on Mount Horeb (ch. 3). This second meal immediately precedes Moses’ second and climactic encounter with God on Mount Sinai. Clearly, the author is aiming at literary symmetry.

But what precisely does this meal signify? This is more difficult to determine. There are essentially two options: Either this is a covenant or treaty meal9 between Moses and Jethro, or it is not. A meal was a typical way of ratifying a treaty or covenant in the Old Testament (e.g., Gen. 26:30; 31:54). Further, such a meal seems to be in view between God and his people in Exodus 24:11, after the giving of the law. Others, however, argue that this is not an official treaty meal, but simply “a festive meal to the praise of God.”10

Little is gained by pressing one option over the other. The fact that they partake of a meal together is certainly theologically significant in that it provides a further hint of what is to come in 24:11, and this is true whether or not this particular meal with Jethro is actually covenantal. The events recorded in 18:9–12 unmistakably echo things that came before and that will come later. This seemingly superfluous meeting between Moses and Jethro gives the writer an opportunity to draw together a number of theological threads before we reach Mount Sinai.

Bridging Contexts

GOD’S PLAN FOR THE NATIONS. Ever since God chose a particular people through whom to work his grand plan of reconciliation, the question has come up, “What about the other nations?” This question begins to be answered directly in Exodus 18 with Jethro’s acknowledgment of the God of Moses as “greater than all other gods” (v. 11).

Although the Midianites are presented in a most positive light in this chapter, this is not the case elsewhere in Scripture. These descendants of Abraham (Gen. 25:2) first come on the scene in the Joseph story as the merchants who sell Joseph to Potiphar (37:28, 36). Perhaps already here we catch a glimpse of the type of relationship Midian and Israel will come to have.

They later become a serious opposition and threat to Israel. Their elders, along with those of the Moabites, serve as Balak’s messengers to lure Balaam to curse Israel by promise of financial gain (Num. 22:7ff.). Their opposition to Israel comes to a head in 25:1–18. The marriage of the Israelite (Zimri) with a Midianite (Cozbi) prompts Phinehas to kill them both. The matter cannot be made more plain than in 25:17: “Treat the Midianites as enemies and kill them.” They are mentioned again in a negative light in Joshua 13:21, almost in passing, with reference to Moses’ defeat of Sihon told in Numbers 21:21–31. The final significant mention of Midianites is in Judges 6–7, where they are Israel’s enemies and are soundly defeated by Gideon.

Israel’s attitude toward the Midianites comes to a stunning climax in Isaiah 10:26: “The LORD Almighty will lash them with a whip, as when he struck down Midian at the rock of Oreb; and he will raise his staff over the waters, as he did in Egypt.” When compared to Exodus 18, Isaiah 10:26 presents a sharply contrasting view of Midian. Whereas Midian was at first a great help to Israel after their deliverance from Egypt (as opposed to the Amalekites), they are now lumped into the same category as the Egyptians, Israel’s archenemies. Such is Midian’s fate. But in Exodus 18 at least, Israel and Midian are allies, and the Midianites serve as models of how nations ought to respond to Israel’s God, in contrast to Egypt and the Amalekites.

We see once again that God’s reach, even at this stage of Israel’s infancy, is broader than simply saving Israel. That the nations acknowledge God as the only God is a recurring theme in the Old Testament. It is not true that the Old Testament is “exclusivistic” whereas the New Testament is “universalistic.”13 The nations are always on God’s mind. Already in Genesis 17:5–6, the broader implications of Abraham’s election are made explicit:

No longer will you be called Abram; your name will be Abraham, for I have made you a father of many nations. I will make you very fruitful; I will make nations of you, and kings will come from you.14

Clearly the purpose of Israel’s election transcends the well-being of one particular people.

This theme, however, is not fully developed in the Old Testament. This fact likely inspires the charge that the Old Testament is exclusivistic. We have hints, perhaps, in the Exodus story with the “many other people” (12:38) and the confession of Pharaoh’s officials (10:7). A clearer demonstration of this principle is the book of Ruth. Ruth was a Moabite,15 who became a direct ancestor of none other than King David. What is remarkable about this, among other things, is the apparently unqualified statement in Deuteronomy 23:3 that neither Ammonites not Moabites would ever be allowed access to “the assembly of the LORD.” In any event, God will include non-Israelite peoples in his plans; he is not just the God of one particular people.

A similar universalistic scenario is played out in the story of Naaman, the commander of the army of the king of Aram (2 Kings 5). Naaman has leprosy. He hears of Elisha’s power, and so he goes to him in the hope of being cured, which is what happens after washing seven times in the Jordan. Naaman responds in words reminiscent of Jethro’s confession: “Now I know that there is no God in all the world except in Israel” (v. 15). This confession can be excused for its naiveté (God is not just “in Israel”), for it is true and honest nevertheless. He, not unlike Jethro, bears witness to God’s saving power and thus acknowledges him as the true God.

A final passage worth mentioning here is Isaiah 19:18–25. Isaiah sees a time when even Egypt, Israel’s great and first national enemy, will come to know God. Egypt will be punished for her oppression of Israel, but in the end “they will acknowledge the LORD” (v. 21) and “turn” to him (v. 22). The interest God takes in bringing the nations to a saving knowledge of him can be seen in the mercy shown even to Egypt. What makes this act of mercy stand out all the more is the otherwise harsh context of judgment against the nations in Isaiah 13–21.

Even this brief survey of the Old Testament shows us that God’s acts concerning Israel have redemptive ramifications for the nations as well as for his people. Such ramifications, of course, are not automatic, but are accompanied by a confession on the part of these nations that the God of Israel is the one true God.

When we get to this point in the discussion, we have arrived at one of the central tenets of the gospel itself. Christ has made all nations one by grafting them into Israel (Rom. 11:11–24). It is not that the nations take on a “separate but equal” status over against Israel in God’s redemptive plan, but all nations may participate fully in that redemption since they can now become part of Israel. They are partakers of that redemption insofar as they acknowledge not simply the God of Israel, but God’s Son. And, unlike Jethro, the nations now acknowledge God’s deliverance not simply for an ethnic entity, but for themselves. The clear strand of universalism in the Old Testament becomes prominent in the gospel.

This point is made in a number of New Testament passages. In Romans 4, for example, Paul presents Abraham as having been justified by faith. Since faith brought him into right standing with God, he is fit to be the “father of many nations” (vv. 17–18). This is how Paul understands Genesis 17:5: Abraham will father many nations—not in the sense of physical offspring, but in the spiritual sense, “those who are of the faith of Abraham” (Rom. 4:16).16 Paul capitalizes on the universalism inherent in the very beginning of Israel’s story and argues that it has come to pass truly only in light of the coming of Christ.

Perhaps nowhere is this emphasis more obvious than in the Great Commission (Matt. 28:19–20):

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. (italics added)

This theme was alluded to earlier in Matthew, as in 12:18–21:

Here is my servant whom I have chosen,

the one I love, in whom I delight;

I will put my Spirit on him,

and he will proclaim justice to the nations.

He will not quarrel or cry out;

no one will hear his voice in the streets.

A bruised reed he will not break,

and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out,

till he leads justice to victory.

In his name the nations will put their hope. (italics added)

Matthew here quotes Isaiah 42:1–4. Jesus’ mission is fully in keeping with the trajectory set in the Old Testament. That the gospel is to be preached to the nations (Mark 13:10) is not an afterthought, but part of God’s redemptive plan from the beginning.

The missionary activities of the early church as recorded in Acts show us the implementation of this universalistic plan. Paul in particular was chosen by God for the singular purpose of bringing the gospel to the Gentiles (Acts 9:15; 10:45; 11:1, 18; 13:47–48; 15:7). It is not, nor was it ever intended, in either Old or New Testament, to be the private message of any one national entity. God’s news is for all who acknowledge him.

Finally, this same point is made repeatedly in Revelation. As noted elsewhere in this commentary, Revelation is a book that describes not just the future, but the reality of the present Christian life in light of the resurrection of Christ. Part of that reality is the fact that God and the Lamb are made known to all the nations. The blood of the Lamb has “purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev. 5:9). Around the throne, John sees “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language” (7:9; see also 14:6). Note also 15:4, since it is similar to what we see happening in Exodus:

Who will not fear you, O Lord,

and bring glory to your name?

For you alone are holy.

All nations will come and worship before you,

for your righteous acts have been revealed. (italics added)

The nations will worship the God of Israel because God’s “righteous acts” have been revealed. In other words, they see what God does and their response is to worship. Jethro has a similar response because God’s righteous acts at the sea have come to his attention.

The inclusion of the Gentiles comes to a climax in the final two chapters of Revelation. The new Jerusalem will not need a temple or the sun or moon. The presence of God is light enough. And the nations and the kings of the earth will walk by this light (Rev. 21:24). And in 22:2, the leaves of the tree of life are “for the healing of the nations.”

It is precisely here, in the final pages of God’s Word, that we come back to a theme enunciated with Abraham and that begins to come to concrete (although proleptic) expression in Jethro’s confession. God created the world and it was good. Through the fall of our first parents, the world was “subjected to frustration” (Rom. 8:20). It is nothing less than the world that God has come to redeem. In the Old Testament this began to be accomplished through the chosen people, the children of Abraham. In the New Testament, this purpose is fully accomplished through the chosen Son, Christ, in whom God is preparing Abraham’s spiritual children.

The law written on their hearts. Exodus 18:13–26 is not just a story of Moses receiving some helpful advice from an in-law. The bigger question is, “What does Moses need help doing?” There is more to this story—any biblical story—than meets the eye. Exodus 18 is as much a theological statement as anything else in the book. It is not simply reporting events, but reporting them with a purpose.

The flow of the narrative is plain. The people want to know what must be done in order to settle their disputes; they are coming “to seek God’s will” (v. 15). Apparently, they have no clear way of knowing what that is. So, for the time being, it is up to Moses to tell them, and this, as we have seen, proves too taxing for him. Jethro suggests a solution to ease the burden by increasing the number of judges. This is fine for now, but within a few chapters another solution will be presented. Rather than increasing the number of judges, at Mount Sinai, the people themselves will become directly aware of what God requires of them by the written publication of the law (chs. 20–23). Hence, when we look below the surface of the story, the problem exposed here is not simply Moses’ frailty, but the people’s.

This concern is not just in chapter 18 but elsewhere in the Old Testament. God is in the process of raising a people, as a father raises his child, to know him. One gets to know God not simply by having a written copy of the law on one’s bookshelf, but by having the law in one’s heart. This is the goal toward which God is stretching his people. Simply having the law in their possession is not enough, as we will see soon enough in the golden calf episode (ch. 32). It needs to become a part of a person. What is at stake is not simply knowledge about God in an academic or detached sense, but actually knowing him. The law is not some legalistic mumbo jumbo but the expression of God’s will and character to his people. Hence, in order to know God, that law that comes from God’s “inner being” must be in us.

This is the refrain we find in Deuteronomy. Moses reiterates and recounts the law to the Israelites nearly forty years after Sinai. Over that intervening time, Israel has amounted to little more than a complete failure, or nearly so were it not for the grace of God. But now, standing at the brink of the Promised Land, the people are reminded of the law (Deut. 6:6–9):

These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.

While the law was not merely external at Sinai, now all of a sudden it must be on the heart. The hard lessons learned during the desert wandering period have struck a cord with the Israelites, and so the need is felt to emphasize the proper “location” of the law: within you, on your heart (see also Deut. 11:18; 30:14; 32:46–47).

This theme finds recurring expression in the Psalms. For example:

The law of his God is in his heart;

his feet do not slip. (Ps. 37:31)

I desire to do your will, O my God;

your law is within my heart. (Ps. 40:8)

Psalm 119, the longest psalm (176 verses), is essentially dedicated to this theme, that God’s law is truly “inside” the psalmist. It is a part of him, or as he says in verse 11: “I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.” The last part of that verse is important, not just for understanding this psalm but this theme as a whole: The purpose for having the law on one’s heart is so that proper behavior may follow. It is not just to have a warm feeling about God, but to have that warm knowledge of God translate into action. This, too, is the focus of Exodus 18:13–26: The people want to know God’s will so they can act accordingly.

Although there are a good number of other passages that we could look at with great profit, we move to Jeremiah 31:33, a passage that takes on added significance in the New Testament. The passage is found in the context of a stunning declaration by Jeremiah, which runs from verses 31–40. The time is coming when God will make a “new covenant” (v. 31) with his people, the character of which is to be contrasted with that made with Israel’s forefathers, “when I took them by the hand to lead them out of Egypt” (v. 32)—in other words, the covenant at Mount Sinai. The nature of this contrast is seen at the end of verse 32: “because they broke my covenant.” This situation will be remedied in the manner cited in verse 33: “I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts.”

Jeremiah does not see the Sinai covenant as essentially useless because it was written, and therefore in desperate need of being superceded by a more “spiritual” version of the law, one written on the heart. Such a perspective ignores the witness of the Old Testament itself as described above, the necessity of having the law on one’s heart. In other words, this is no preview of a supposed law-grace dichotomy. Rather, Jeremiah is saying that the covenant with Israel at Sinai will be taken to an even greater level of intimacy; it will be “taken to heart” even more deeply. In other words, we have here a glimpse of the ultimate realization of what the law all along has required—heart assent.

As is well known, Jeremiah 31:31–34 is cited in Hebrews 8:8–12. This is because in Christ the new covenant has come. Again, this new covenant is not to be contrasted absolutely with the old. It is rather a heightening and full realization of what the Old Testament had always required. God wants us, all of us. He wants our devotion. He did not come to us as a man to make us good people, but to restore our fallen image. Christians now have in them not the law in a legalistic sense. What we have is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, who will guide us in the proper path and enable us to have a true heart for God.

This is what Jesus was zeroing in on in the Sermon on the Mount.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. (Matt. 5:8)

But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. (5:28)

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (6:21)

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus makes it clear that it is the heart that he is after (e.g., Matt. 13:15, 19; 15:8, 18–19, and parallels). We should not think of statements such as these as innovations. Jesus is calling the people back to the standard of morality that the Old Testament itself calls for, a message that may have been obscured in the religious climate of his day.

God’s purpose has always been to make a people who have an intimate knowledge of him, a knowledge of the heart that leads to proper behavior, not simply knowing about God. Exodus 18 is the first concrete step God uses to give his people such knowledge. But although Moses is their model and leader, his ministry is temporary. Having the law on their hearts will come to an even grander expression for those who are bound to God by virtue of their union with the risen Christ, the supreme minister of the covenant.

Contemporary Significance

TELL OF WHAT the Lord has done. As Exodus 18 shows us, the nations are part of God’s plan. This is no less true today. No, this is not going to be a pep talk for overseas missions. Rather, I wish to stress that the response of the nations to God’s acts, as seen adumbrated in Jethro’s response, has already happened. The church is universal. The call to preach the gospel “in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8) has come to pass. Belief in the God of Israel is no longer located in the tiny strip of land in the Middle East. Nothing more needs to be done for God’s general purpose to bring the gospel to all the world to be “accomplished.” This is not to say that missionary activity can cease!! It means that the dividing wall of hostility between the Jews and Gentiles has been broken down because of the resurrection of Christ (Eph. 2:14–18). The gospel now goes freely to the whole world.

In this sense, most Christians today can identify with Jethro more than Moses and the Israelites! Unless one is of Jewish heritage, he or she is also of a Gentile nation that, to use Paul’s analogy in Romans 11:11–24, has been grafted into Israel, the branch. Theologically speaking, the Great Commission has been fully obeyed, which, again, does not mean that missionary activity can cease. Such a thing does not even enter the mind of a true follower of Christ. The nations are still being called into God’s kingdom, and we take part in that.

But the application of Exodus 18 should not be restricted to bringing the gospel to virgin soil. The fact remains that the gospel is “out there” for all the world to see. And we, as faithful followers of Christ, are a part of that outward movement of the gospel to the nations not just when we board a plane for a Third World country or send a check to a mission organization. We also bring the good news to the nations when we talk to our neighbors and the people we see every day. As we do this, more and more of the “nations” are being brought into “Israel.” This “mixed crowd” (to use the language of 12:38, NRSV) is increasing. It is called the church.

The nations come to a knowledge of God today, as they have always done, by hearing (Rom. 10:14–15). Specifically, it is by hearing about God and his acts. For the church age, of course, the message is how God is reconciling the world to himself in Christ (2 Cor. 5:19–21). It is also relating to others how he acts in our lives, how he is turning us into Christ-like beings.

The message the church is to give to the nations should focus on God. But we all know that is not always the case. When our witness to the gospel begins to sound a little too much like “Look how together I am. Wow, don’t you want to be like me!?” we have strayed from the path. Nor should it be, “Come to our church because we are growing. We have a variety of ministries to meet your needs. Our pastor is a motivating and gifted preacher; he will change your life.”

Few are this blatant, but there is a subtle difference between “Look what God has done in my life” and “Look what God has done in my life”; between “Look how God is moving here” and “Look how God is moving here.” Even the most mature believers, who can serve as examples (cf. Phil. 3:17) for us to follow, are not to be the main focus. Imitating such godly people should never turn into idolizing them. It is our natural tendency to center on our own efforts and accomplishments, but the cause of the gospel demands that we lose ourselves entirely, that we get out of the way and let the glory of God and the wonder of the gospel shine to all the nations. Then they, like Jethro, will be “delighted to hear about all the good things the LORD had done for Israel” (Ex. 18:9).

The law and the Christian life. That we would have the law of God written on our hearts is the victorious Christian life. Such a statement should not seem too strange to us. I suspect that some negative reactions might result from the word “law”: “Are we not beyond that? Isn’t the law dead?” I am not using “law” here as a list of commands. This is not even what it means in the Old Testament. Even there it refers to much more than a moral checklist. For example, Psalm 78 helps us broaden our understanding of what “law” means. This psalm gives an overview of Israel’s history, predominantly the Exodus; verse 4 makes the didactic purpose of the psalm clear:

We will not hide them from their children;

we will tell the next generation

the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,

his power, and the wonders he has done.

What is of interest for us is verse 1, which sets the tone for the entire psalm:

O my people, hear my teaching;

listen to the words of my mouth.

The word translated “teaching” (correctly) is the Hebrew word torah, which is often simply spelled “Torah” in English. This is the word commonly used for law, especially the law given at Sinai. But here Torah refers to narrative portions of the Pentateuch.

This is also the case in Deuteronomy 1:5. We read that “east of the Jordan in the territory of Moab, Moses began to expound this law, saying. . . .” What follows is not an exposition of the Ten Commandments or some other legal material but, from 1:6 to 4:43, a review of the major events of the Exodus community. In other words, law once again includes narrative.

Law is more than precepts. Even in the Old Testament, it encompasses Israel’s story, what God has done to and through his people. In this sense, law is much more than we normally take it to mean, all that antiquated, legalistic stuff that Christ has annulled. Law in the broader sense is the expression of God’s character. It is his story of how he cares for his people.

In other words, to have the law on our hearts is to know God, which ultimately means to have his grace clearly imprinted in us. This is an essential element to living the Christian life. If the law is just an external law to be obeyed, the result is disastrous: a form of piety without the substance. There is plenty of “pharisaism” in the church, that is, the notion that being a Christian means trusting in Jesus for your salvation and having the correct view or displaying the proper behavior concerning certain issues. This is not unlike the problem with the Judaizers that Paul had, for example, in Galatia. Certain people there argued that to be a Christian you needed Jesus and circumcision. But the essence of the gospel is that there is no “and.”

Still, we all know people—indeed, we likely struggle with this ourselves—who are suspicious of the legitimacy of someone’s claim to be a Christian on the basis of observed behaviors or opinions that they do not agree with. The list of grievances is long and well known. “I know he says he is a Christian, but his hair is too long; he smokes; he has a wine cellar; he watches The Simpsons; he goes to the mall on Sundays; he is active in social issues; his political views are different from mine.” If we are honest with ourselves, I suspect that all of us have our own checklist.

Let me make it perfectly clear that I am not suggesting that external behavior is irrelevant. Nor do I mean to paint with the same brush everyone who might disapprove of certain behaviors. Quite the contrary. Even in Exodus 18 knowing God’s will was for the express purpose of behaving correctly. But the type of person I am describing here is different. This person is petty, suspicious, and judgmental, someone who thinks that true spirituality can be reduced to a number of easily identifiable behaviors that he or she considers proper. Part of the gospel is that we who have the law written on our hearts are free from such a debilitating view of life.

One of my best loved Christian friends is a man who feels that drinking wine is not a thing Christians should do, whereas I feel this view does not have scriptural support. We have come to different conclusions on this matter. But he does not think I am any less a true follower of Christ because I do not share his view. For him, the law is on the heart and not merely a checklist to see if someone walks the straight and narrow. I am often struck by the zeal of these “checklist” Christians. Their zeal blinds them to their own arrogance, sense of superiority, and judgmentalism, all of which are clear markers that the law of God is not written on their hearts.

Unlike the Israelites of Exodus 18, the law, in Christ, is truly written on our hearts. But like the Israelites, we still need to discern daily what God wants us to do. It is not always easy to know what God requires of us, especially since the Bible does not tell us what to do in each and every situation. It is not a morality manual with an index we flip through to find the answers for all of life’s problems. It does not tell us, as I read in one strongly conservative publication years ago, whether it is OK to go to the circus or what movies we can or cannot go to. And even when the Bible seems to speak directly to our situation, we must still patiently discern whether that biblical precept or example is truly relevant. For example, should we seek contact with sinners on the basis of 1 Corinthians 9:22 or Matthew 9:9–13, or keep away from them on the basis of 1 Corinthians 5:11?

It is precisely these kinds of concerns that led to the massive legal literature of Judaism, the best known of which are the Mishnah and the two Talmuds. For example, the Bible says, “Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.” Fair enough, but this raises a number of questions. What does “keep” mean? What is considered “work”? Can I cook a meal on the Sabbath? Can I rescue an animal trapped in a ditch? In other words, how is this command to be kept? Christians have similar concerns, and some of our efforts to answer these questions share a striking degree of similarity to their Jewish counterparts. How should Christians keep the Sabbath? (Or should it be Sunday? Or do they need to keep it at all?) Can I watch a football game but not a double-header? Should I attend the evening service? And so forth.

What it means for the law to be written on our hearts is not that we automatically know what to do in every situation. Sometimes we do, but sometimes we must be patient in our judgments by seeking the Lord’s guidance. Other times we must seek the advice of respected Christian friends. It is only those who do not have the law written on their hearts who think that God’s will is easily discernible. That God has put the law on our hearts means, if anything, that our wills are being conformed to his own because, as we live day by day and struggle in our decisions, we are getting to know him more and more. We learn to lean toward him, as a flower leans toward the light. It is in the process of this desire to do right that we seek God with our whole hearts. We seek him because we, like the Israelites, want to do his will. And because of the spirit of Christ dwelling in us, that quest is never in vain.

Original Meaning

Jethro’s Advice to Moses (18:13–27)

VERSES 13–27 RECORD the second topic of this chapter, Jethro’s advice to Moses to divide the labor of judging the people’s disputes. Moses is said to “judge” (v. 13), which in context means arbitrating legal issues between parties based on the standard of “God’s decrees and laws” (v. 16). We have here another transparent hint of the more detailed legal administration of Sinai. One may well ask how they could have known God’s laws and decrees before Sinai, but we have seen this problem earlier with respect to the “commands and decrees” of 15:26 and the Sabbath law of 16:5, 23, 25–26, 29–30, which, as we argued, must have been common knowledge at the time. The “giving” of the law at Sinai is not the first time Israel hears of God’s laws, but is the codification and explicit promulgation of those laws (allowing, of course, for the imposition of additional laws at Sinai).

This adjudication between parties proves too much for Moses. He is dead tired after keeping up the pace all day. Jethro sees what is happening to his son-in-law and offers sound advice: Get some help. Moses is in over his head, and things cannot go on like this for long. In my view, this harsh reality gives some perspective to the Sinai legislation. At least one purpose of codifying the law is so that everyone will know firsthand right from wrong. The Ten Commandments and the Book of the Covenant (21:2–23:19) are not ornaments for Moses’ legal bookshelf. They are meant to be put before the people directly. This does not diminish Moses’ importance, it merely gives people a more direct knowledge of God’s will.

The advice Jethro gives is a much-needed remedy to a problematic situation. From one perspective, Jethro is returning a favor. In 2:16–20, Moses comes to Jethro’s aid by driving away the shepherds from the well. Now, Jethro comes to Moses’ aid. It is worth noting again that both incidents are accompanied by a meal and both acts of kindness result in making “shepherding” more effective—for the former the shepherding of a flock, for the latter the shepherding of God’s people. (That Moses is shepherding his people is already hinted at in 3:1 and made explicit in such places as Ps. 77:20.)

Jethro’s advice (18:17–23) is fairly detailed and may indicate that he had experience in these matters, being a priest. (1) Moses is to have superiority over his chosen helpers in that he is the “people’s representative before God” and is to “teach” the people God’s laws (vv. 19–20). (2) Moses is to “select capable men,” each of whom is to act as judge over an assigned group of people for the “simple” cases (vv. 21–22); Moses will get only the “difficult” ones (v. 22). Separating the difficult from simple cases presumes a standard by which to make such a decision. What that standard is we are not told, but this lends further credence to the fact that Israel’s legal self-consciousness must have developed somewhat before Sinai.

Note also the qualifications of these judges. They are to be “men who fear God, trustworthy men who hate dishonest gain” (v. 21). What is significant here is both what is stated and what is not. The explicit reference to dishonest gain anticipates a common temptation of leadership, namely, bribery—one that will rear its head repeatedly throughout Israel’s history (e.g., 1 Sam. 8:3; Jer. 22:17). Some of the qualifications cited in Numbers 11:16 and Deuteronomy 1:9–18 are not mentioned here, however: people who are known, respected, and, above all, wise and understanding. The qualifications of Exodus 18:21 are simple in comparison. As noted above, what is recorded in Exodus 18 and Numbers 11/Deuteronomy 1 are likely two separate events, with unique circumstances that demand their own set of qualifications.

Moses listens to his father-in-law and puts the plan into operation; we can assume it works well (vv. 24–26). It seems that the reason why Moses obeys Jethro is not to be polite or to try it to see if it works.11 Rather, as a number of commentators have mentioned, Jethro’s advice is also God’s command.12 Verse 23 of the NIV has, “If you do this and God so commands, you will be able to stand the strain,” which assumes that the second clause (in italics) is part of the protasis (the “if” clause). This may be the case, but it makes more sense to read this clause as Jethro adding “punch” to his advice: “If you do this—God commands you—you will be able to stand the strain.” By dividing the labor, Moses was following God’s order given through Jethro.

That God can use a Midianite in this special capacity should come as no surprise to those familiar with similar instances in prophetic literature (e.g., the role of Cyrus in Isa. 44:28; 45:1, 13). But more puzzling is why Moses needs to have advice given to him through such channels. He is God’s chosen instrument. He is on an intimate basis with God. Why does God not simply reveal to Moses directly that a division of labor is necessary, as he has been doing since chapter 3? To be honest, I do not know. It is worth noting, however, that this does not seem to bother God or the biblical writer. It seems most prudent here simply to observe that it happens rather than to try to explain why.

Jethro and Moses part company in verse 27, as they had done earlier in 4:19–20, but now for the last time. Presumably Moses’ family remains behind, since Gershom’s descendants serve as priests (Judg. 18:30), although Zipporah is not mentioned again. Interestingly, according to Numbers 12:1, Moses had a Cushite wife. This may be a second wife in addition to Zipporah, or a wife after the death of Zipporah (not recorded); any suggestion is conjecture. The fact that 18:27 stresses that “Jethro returned” should, I feel, be taken at face value: he and he alone.

As we come to the close of this chapter, we, like the Israelites, are prepared to approach God at Mount Sinai. A number of elements of chapter 18 have provided further hints of this climactic event, as have other passages since the beginning of the book.

Bridging Contexts

GOD’S PLAN FOR THE NATIONS. Ever since God chose a particular people through whom to work his grand plan of reconciliation, the question has come up, “What about the other nations?” This question begins to be answered directly in Exodus 18 with Jethro’s acknowledgment of the God of Moses as “greater than all other gods” (v. 11).

Although the Midianites are presented in a most positive light in this chapter, this is not the case elsewhere in Scripture. These descendants of Abraham (Gen. 25:2) first come on the scene in the Joseph story as the merchants who sell Joseph to Potiphar (37:28, 36). Perhaps already here we catch a glimpse of the type of relationship Midian and Israel will come to have.

They later become a serious opposition and threat to Israel. Their elders, along with those of the Moabites, serve as Balak’s messengers to lure Balaam to curse Israel by promise of financial gain (Num. 22:7ff.). Their opposition to Israel comes to a head in 25:1–18. The marriage of the Israelite (Zimri) with a Midianite (Cozbi) prompts Phinehas to kill them both. The matter cannot be made more plain than in 25:17: “Treat the Midianites as enemies and kill them.” They are mentioned again in a negative light in Joshua 13:21, almost in passing, with reference to Moses’ defeat of Sihon told in Numbers 21:21–31. The final significant mention of Midianites is in Judges 6–7, where they are Israel’s enemies and are soundly defeated by Gideon.

Israel’s attitude toward the Midianites comes to a stunning climax in Isaiah 10:26: “The LORD Almighty will lash them with a whip, as when he struck down Midian at the rock of Oreb; and he will raise his staff over the waters, as he did in Egypt.” When compared to Exodus 18, Isaiah 10:26 presents a sharply contrasting view of Midian. Whereas Midian was at first a great help to Israel after their deliverance from Egypt (as opposed to the Amalekites), they are now lumped into the same category as the Egyptians, Israel’s archenemies. Such is Midian’s fate. But in Exodus 18 at least, Israel and Midian are allies, and the Midianites serve as models of how nations ought to respond to Israel’s God, in contrast to Egypt and the Amalekites.

We see once again that God’s reach, even at this stage of Israel’s infancy, is broader than simply saving Israel. That the nations acknowledge God as the only God is a recurring theme in the Old Testament. It is not true that the Old Testament is “exclusivistic” whereas the New Testament is “universalistic.”13 The nations are always on God’s mind. Already in Genesis 17:5–6, the broader implications of Abraham’s election are made explicit:

No longer will you be called Abram; your name will be Abraham, for I have made you a father of many nations. I will make you very fruitful; I will make nations of you, and kings will come from you.14

Clearly the purpose of Israel’s election transcends the well-being of one particular people.

This theme, however, is not fully developed in the Old Testament. This fact likely inspires the charge that the Old Testament is exclusivistic. We have hints, perhaps, in the Exodus story with the “many other people” (12:38) and the confession of Pharaoh’s officials (10:7). A clearer demonstration of this principle is the book of Ruth. Ruth was a Moabite,15 who became a direct ancestor of none other than King David. What is remarkable about this, among other things, is the apparently unqualified statement in Deuteronomy 23:3 that neither Ammonites not Moabites would ever be allowed access to “the assembly of the LORD.” In any event, God will include non-Israelite peoples in his plans; he is not just the God of one particular people.

A similar universalistic scenario is played out in the story of Naaman, the commander of the army of the king of Aram (2 Kings 5). Naaman has leprosy. He hears of Elisha’s power, and so he goes to him in the hope of being cured, which is what happens after washing seven times in the Jordan. Naaman responds in words reminiscent of Jethro’s confession: “Now I know that there is no God in all the world except in Israel” (v. 15). This confession can be excused for its naiveté (God is not just “in Israel”), for it is true and honest nevertheless. He, not unlike Jethro, bears witness to God’s saving power and thus acknowledges him as the true God.

A final passage worth mentioning here is Isaiah 19:18–25. Isaiah sees a time when even Egypt, Israel’s great and first national enemy, will come to know God. Egypt will be punished for her oppression of Israel, but in the end “they will acknowledge the LORD” (v. 21) and “turn” to him (v. 22). The interest God takes in bringing the nations to a saving knowledge of him can be seen in the mercy shown even to Egypt. What makes this act of mercy stand out all the more is the otherwise harsh context of judgment against the nations in Isaiah 13–21.

Even this brief survey of the Old Testament shows us that God’s acts concerning Israel have redemptive ramifications for the nations as well as for his people. Such ramifications, of course, are not automatic, but are accompanied by a confession on the part of these nations that the God of Israel is the one true God.

When we get to this point in the discussion, we have arrived at one of the central tenets of the gospel itself. Christ has made all nations one by grafting them into Israel (Rom. 11:11–24). It is not that the nations take on a “separate but equal” status over against Israel in God’s redemptive plan, but all nations may participate fully in that redemption since they can now become part of Israel. They are partakers of that redemption insofar as they acknowledge not simply the God of Israel, but God’s Son. And, unlike Jethro, the nations now acknowledge God’s deliverance not simply for an ethnic entity, but for themselves. The clear strand of universalism in the Old Testament becomes prominent in the gospel.

This point is made in a number of New Testament passages. In Romans 4, for example, Paul presents Abraham as having been justified by faith. Since faith brought him into right standing with God, he is fit to be the “father of many nations” (vv. 17–18). This is how Paul understands Genesis 17:5: Abraham will father many nations—not in the sense of physical offspring, but in the spiritual sense, “those who are of the faith of Abraham” (Rom. 4:16).16 Paul capitalizes on the universalism inherent in the very beginning of Israel’s story and argues that it has come to pass truly only in light of the coming of Christ.

Perhaps nowhere is this emphasis more obvious than in the Great Commission (Matt. 28:19–20):

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. (italics added)

This theme was alluded to earlier in Matthew, as in 12:18–21:

Here is my servant whom I have chosen,

the one I love, in whom I delight;

I will put my Spirit on him,

and he will proclaim justice to the nations.

He will not quarrel or cry out;

no one will hear his voice in the streets.

A bruised reed he will not break,

and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out,

till he leads justice to victory.

In his name the nations will put their hope. (italics added)

Matthew here quotes Isaiah 42:1–4. Jesus’ mission is fully in keeping with the trajectory set in the Old Testament. That the gospel is to be preached to the nations (Mark 13:10) is not an afterthought, but part of God’s redemptive plan from the beginning.

The missionary activities of the early church as recorded in Acts show us the implementation of this universalistic plan. Paul in particular was chosen by God for the singular purpose of bringing the gospel to the Gentiles (Acts 9:15; 10:45; 11:1, 18; 13:47–48; 15:7). It is not, nor was it ever intended, in either Old or New Testament, to be the private message of any one national entity. God’s news is for all who acknowledge him.

Finally, this same point is made repeatedly in Revelation. As noted elsewhere in this commentary, Revelation is a book that describes not just the future, but the reality of the present Christian life in light of the resurrection of Christ. Part of that reality is the fact that God and the Lamb are made known to all the nations. The blood of the Lamb has “purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev. 5:9). Around the throne, John sees “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language” (7:9; see also 14:6). Note also 15:4, since it is similar to what we see happening in Exodus:

Who will not fear you, O Lord,

and bring glory to your name?

For you alone are holy.

All nations will come and worship before you,

for your righteous acts have been revealed. (italics added)

The nations will worship the God of Israel because God’s “righteous acts” have been revealed. In other words, they see what God does and their response is to worship. Jethro has a similar response because God’s righteous acts at the sea have come to his attention.

The inclusion of the Gentiles comes to a climax in the final two chapters of Revelation. The new Jerusalem will not need a temple or the sun or moon. The presence of God is light enough. And the nations and the kings of the earth will walk by this light (Rev. 21:24). And in 22:2, the leaves of the tree of life are “for the healing of the nations.”

It is precisely here, in the final pages of God’s Word, that we come back to a theme enunciated with Abraham and that begins to come to concrete (although proleptic) expression in Jethro’s confession. God created the world and it was good. Through the fall of our first parents, the world was “subjected to frustration” (Rom. 8:20). It is nothing less than the world that God has come to redeem. In the Old Testament this began to be accomplished through the chosen people, the children of Abraham. In the New Testament, this purpose is fully accomplished through the chosen Son, Christ, in whom God is preparing Abraham’s spiritual children.

The law written on their hearts. Exodus 18:13–26 is not just a story of Moses receiving some helpful advice from an in-law. The bigger question is, “What does Moses need help doing?” There is more to this story—any biblical story—than meets the eye. Exodus 18 is as much a theological statement as anything else in the book. It is not simply reporting events, but reporting them with a purpose.

The flow of the narrative is plain. The people want to know what must be done in order to settle their disputes; they are coming “to seek God’s will” (v. 15). Apparently, they have no clear way of knowing what that is. So, for the time being, it is up to Moses to tell them, and this, as we have seen, proves too taxing for him. Jethro suggests a solution to ease the burden by increasing the number of judges. This is fine for now, but within a few chapters another solution will be presented. Rather than increasing the number of judges, at Mount Sinai, the people themselves will become directly aware of what God requires of them by the written publication of the law (chs. 20–23). Hence, when we look below the surface of the story, the problem exposed here is not simply Moses’ frailty, but the people’s.

This concern is not just in chapter 18 but elsewhere in the Old Testament. God is in the process of raising a people, as a father raises his child, to know him. One gets to know God not simply by having a written copy of the law on one’s bookshelf, but by having the law in one’s heart. This is the goal toward which God is stretching his people. Simply having the law in their possession is not enough, as we will see soon enough in the golden calf episode (ch. 32). It needs to become a part of a person. What is at stake is not simply knowledge about God in an academic or detached sense, but actually knowing him. The law is not some legalistic mumbo jumbo but the expression of God’s will and character to his people. Hence, in order to know God, that law that comes from God’s “inner being” must be in us.

This is the refrain we find in Deuteronomy. Moses reiterates and recounts the law to the Israelites nearly forty years after Sinai. Over that intervening time, Israel has amounted to little more than a complete failure, or nearly so were it not for the grace of God. But now, standing at the brink of the Promised Land, the people are reminded of the law (Deut. 6:6–9):

These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.

While the law was not merely external at Sinai, now all of a sudden it must be on the heart. The hard lessons learned during the desert wandering period have struck a cord with the Israelites, and so the need is felt to emphasize the proper “location” of the law: within you, on your heart (see also Deut. 11:18; 30:14; 32:46–47).

This theme finds recurring expression in the Psalms. For example:

The law of his God is in his heart;

his feet do not slip. (Ps. 37:31)

I desire to do your will, O my God;

your law is within my heart. (Ps. 40:8)

Psalm 119, the longest psalm (176 verses), is essentially dedicated to this theme, that God’s law is truly “inside” the psalmist. It is a part of him, or as he says in verse 11: “I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.” The last part of that verse is important, not just for understanding this psalm but this theme as a whole: The purpose for having the law on one’s heart is so that proper behavior may follow. It is not just to have a warm feeling about God, but to have that warm knowledge of God translate into action. This, too, is the focus of Exodus 18:13–26: The people want to know God’s will so they can act accordingly.

Although there are a good number of other passages that we could look at with great profit, we move to Jeremiah 31:33, a passage that takes on added significance in the New Testament. The passage is found in the context of a stunning declaration by Jeremiah, which runs from verses 31–40. The time is coming when God will make a “new covenant” (v. 31) with his people, the character of which is to be contrasted with that made with Israel’s forefathers, “when I took them by the hand to lead them out of Egypt” (v. 32)—in other words, the covenant at Mount Sinai. The nature of this contrast is seen at the end of verse 32: “because they broke my covenant.” This situation will be remedied in the manner cited in verse 33: “I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts.”

Jeremiah does not see the Sinai covenant as essentially useless because it was written, and therefore in desperate need of being superceded by a more “spiritual” version of the law, one written on the heart. Such a perspective ignores the witness of the Old Testament itself as described above, the necessity of having the law on one’s heart. In other words, this is no preview of a supposed law-grace dichotomy. Rather, Jeremiah is saying that the covenant with Israel at Sinai will be taken to an even greater level of intimacy; it will be “taken to heart” even more deeply. In other words, we have here a glimpse of the ultimate realization of what the law all along has required—heart assent.

As is well known, Jeremiah 31:31–34 is cited in Hebrews 8:8–12. This is because in Christ the new covenant has come. Again, this new covenant is not to be contrasted absolutely with the old. It is rather a heightening and full realization of what the Old Testament had always required. God wants us, all of us. He wants our devotion. He did not come to us as a man to make us good people, but to restore our fallen image. Christians now have in them not the law in a legalistic sense. What we have is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, who will guide us in the proper path and enable us to have a true heart for God.

This is what Jesus was zeroing in on in the Sermon on the Mount.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. (Matt. 5:8)

But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. (5:28)

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (6:21)

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus makes it clear that it is the heart that he is after (e.g., Matt. 13:15, 19; 15:8, 18–19, and parallels). We should not think of statements such as these as innovations. Jesus is calling the people back to the standard of morality that the Old Testament itself calls for, a message that may have been obscured in the religious climate of his day.

God’s purpose has always been to make a people who have an intimate knowledge of him, a knowledge of the heart that leads to proper behavior, not simply knowing about God. Exodus 18 is the first concrete step God uses to give his people such knowledge. But although Moses is their model and leader, his ministry is temporary. Having the law on their hearts will come to an even grander expression for those who are bound to God by virtue of their union with the risen Christ, the supreme minister of the covenant.

Contemporary Significance

TELL OF WHAT the Lord has done. As Exodus 18 shows us, the nations are part of God’s plan. This is no less true today. No, this is not going to be a pep talk for overseas missions. Rather, I wish to stress that the response of the nations to God’s acts, as seen adumbrated in Jethro’s response, has already happened. The church is universal. The call to preach the gospel “in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8) has come to pass. Belief in the God of Israel is no longer located in the tiny strip of land in the Middle East. Nothing more needs to be done for God’s general purpose to bring the gospel to all the world to be “accomplished.” This is not to say that missionary activity can cease!! It means that the dividing wall of hostility between the Jews and Gentiles has been broken down because of the resurrection of Christ (Eph. 2:14–18). The gospel now goes freely to the whole world.

In this sense, most Christians today can identify with Jethro more than Moses and the Israelites! Unless one is of Jewish heritage, he or she is also of a Gentile nation that, to use Paul’s analogy in Romans 11:11–24, has been grafted into Israel, the branch. Theologically speaking, the Great Commission has been fully obeyed, which, again, does not mean that missionary activity can cease. Such a thing does not even enter the mind of a true follower of Christ. The nations are still being called into God’s kingdom, and we take part in that.

But the application of Exodus 18 should not be restricted to bringing the gospel to virgin soil. The fact remains that the gospel is “out there” for all the world to see. And we, as faithful followers of Christ, are a part of that outward movement of the gospel to the nations not just when we board a plane for a Third World country or send a check to a mission organization. We also bring the good news to the nations when we talk to our neighbors and the people we see every day. As we do this, more and more of the “nations” are being brought into “Israel.” This “mixed crowd” (to use the language of 12:38, NRSV) is increasing. It is called the church.

The nations come to a knowledge of God today, as they have always done, by hearing (Rom. 10:14–15). Specifically, it is by hearing about God and his acts. For the church age, of course, the message is how God is reconciling the world to himself in Christ (2 Cor. 5:19–21). It is also relating to others how he acts in our lives, how he is turning us into Christ-like beings.

The message the church is to give to the nations should focus on God. But we all know that is not always the case. When our witness to the gospel begins to sound a little too much like “Look how together I am. Wow, don’t you want to be like me!?” we have strayed from the path. Nor should it be, “Come to our church because we are growing. We have a variety of ministries to meet your needs. Our pastor is a motivating and gifted preacher; he will change your life.”

Few are this blatant, but there is a subtle difference between “Look what God has done in my life” and “Look what God has done in my life”; between “Look how God is moving here” and “Look how God is moving here.” Even the most mature believers, who can serve as examples (cf. Phil. 3:17) for us to follow, are not to be the main focus. Imitating such godly people should never turn into idolizing them. It is our natural tendency to center on our own efforts and accomplishments, but the cause of the gospel demands that we lose ourselves entirely, that we get out of the way and let the glory of God and the wonder of the gospel shine to all the nations. Then they, like Jethro, will be “delighted to hear about all the good things the LORD had done for Israel” (Ex. 18:9).

The law and the Christian life. That we would have the law of God written on our hearts is the victorious Christian life. Such a statement should not seem too strange to us. I suspect that some negative reactions might result from the word “law”: “Are we not beyond that? Isn’t the law dead?” I am not using “law” here as a list of commands. This is not even what it means in the Old Testament. Even there it refers to much more than a moral checklist. For example, Psalm 78 helps us broaden our understanding of what “law” means. This psalm gives an overview of Israel’s history, predominantly the Exodus; verse 4 makes the didactic purpose of the psalm clear:

We will not hide them from their children;

we will tell the next generation

the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,

his power, and the wonders he has done.

What is of interest for us is verse 1, which sets the tone for the entire psalm:

O my people, hear my teaching;

listen to the words of my mouth.

The word translated “teaching” (correctly) is the Hebrew word torah, which is often simply spelled “Torah” in English. This is the word commonly used for law, especially the law given at Sinai. But here Torah refers to narrative portions of the Pentateuch.

This is also the case in Deuteronomy 1:5. We read that “east of the Jordan in the territory of Moab, Moses began to expound this law, saying. . . .” What follows is not an exposition of the Ten Commandments or some other legal material but, from 1:6 to 4:43, a review of the major events of the Exodus community. In other words, law once again includes narrative.

Law is more than precepts. Even in the Old Testament, it encompasses Israel’s story, what God has done to and through his people. In this sense, law is much more than we normally take it to mean, all that antiquated, legalistic stuff that Christ has annulled. Law in the broader sense is the expression of God’s character. It is his story of how he cares for his people.

In other words, to have the law on our hearts is to know God, which ultimately means to have his grace clearly imprinted in us. This is an essential element to living the Christian life. If the law is just an external law to be obeyed, the result is disastrous: a form of piety without the substance. There is plenty of “pharisaism” in the church, that is, the notion that being a Christian means trusting in Jesus for your salvation and having the correct view or displaying the proper behavior concerning certain issues. This is not unlike the problem with the Judaizers that Paul had, for example, in Galatia. Certain people there argued that to be a Christian you needed Jesus and circumcision. But the essence of the gospel is that there is no “and.”

Still, we all know people—indeed, we likely struggle with this ourselves—who are suspicious of the legitimacy of someone’s claim to be a Christian on the basis of observed behaviors or opinions that they do not agree with. The list of grievances is long and well known. “I know he says he is a Christian, but his hair is too long; he smokes; he has a wine cellar; he watches The Simpsons; he goes to the mall on Sundays; he is active in social issues; his political views are different from mine.” If we are honest with ourselves, I suspect that all of us have our own checklist.

Let me make it perfectly clear that I am not suggesting that external behavior is irrelevant. Nor do I mean to paint with the same brush everyone who might disapprove of certain behaviors. Quite the contrary. Even in Exodus 18 knowing God’s will was for the express purpose of behaving correctly. But the type of person I am describing here is different. This person is petty, suspicious, and judgmental, someone who thinks that true spirituality can be reduced to a number of easily identifiable behaviors that he or she considers proper. Part of the gospel is that we who have the law written on our hearts are free from such a debilitating view of life.

One of my best loved Christian friends is a man who feels that drinking wine is not a thing Christians should do, whereas I feel this view does not have scriptural support. We have come to different conclusions on this matter. But he does not think I am any less a true follower of Christ because I do not share his view. For him, the law is on the heart and not merely a checklist to see if someone walks the straight and narrow. I am often struck by the zeal of these “checklist” Christians. Their zeal blinds them to their own arrogance, sense of superiority, and judgmentalism, all of which are clear markers that the law of God is not written on their hearts.

Unlike the Israelites of Exodus 18, the law, in Christ, is truly written on our hearts. But like the Israelites, we still need to discern daily what God wants us to do. It is not always easy to know what God requires of us, especially since the Bible does not tell us what to do in each and every situation. It is not a morality manual with an index we flip through to find the answers for all of life’s problems. It does not tell us, as I read in one strongly conservative publication years ago, whether it is OK to go to the circus or what movies we can or cannot go to. And even when the Bible seems to speak directly to our situation, we must still patiently discern whether that biblical precept or example is truly relevant. For example, should we seek contact with sinners on the basis of 1 Corinthians 9:22 or Matthew 9:9–13, or keep away from them on the basis of 1 Corinthians 5:11?

It is precisely these kinds of concerns that led to the massive legal literature of Judaism, the best known of which are the Mishnah and the two Talmuds. For example, the Bible says, “Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.” Fair enough, but this raises a number of questions. What does “keep” mean? What is considered “work”? Can I cook a meal on the Sabbath? Can I rescue an animal trapped in a ditch? In other words, how is this command to be kept? Christians have similar concerns, and some of our efforts to answer these questions share a striking degree of similarity to their Jewish counterparts. How should Christians keep the Sabbath? (Or should it be Sunday? Or do they need to keep it at all?) Can I watch a football game but not a double-header? Should I attend the evening service? And so forth.

What it means for the law to be written on our hearts is not that we automatically know what to do in every situation. Sometimes we do, but sometimes we must be patient in our judgments by seeking the Lord’s guidance. Other times we must seek the advice of respected Christian friends. It is only those who do not have the law written on their hearts who think that God’s will is easily discernible. That God has put the law on our hearts means, if anything, that our wills are being conformed to his own because, as we live day by day and struggle in our decisions, we are getting to know him more and more. We learn to lean toward him, as a flower leans toward the light. It is in the process of this desire to do right that we seek God with our whole hearts. We seek him because we, like the Israelites, want to do his will. And because of the spirit of Christ dwelling in us, that quest is never in vain.